This Charming Life
by Harlee Quinn
Summary: AU: Now married, Jax and Jolene have settled down to life in Charming when outside forces threaten to destroy the Club and the Tellers' happy home. Can the newlyweds work together to save themselves and their SAMCRO heritage from being ripped apart? Only by revealing the past can the Tellers have a happy future. Story 3 of the Jaxene Trilogy.
1. New Irish Blood

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**AN: They're back! This is the final installment in the Jax and Jolene trilogy. I'm very excited about this story and would really appreciate feedback, so if you read, please review. Enjoy!**

* * *

Being a mother, a working woman, and a newlywed old lady was not an easy job—but Jolene fuckin' loved the shit out of it! Having given up the dream of someday being Mrs. Jackson Teller a long time ago, Jolene had to keep pinching herself as a reminder that she wasn't dreaming. And, as Jax was fond of telling her every time she mentioned it, the reality was so much better than the dream.

Married for less than two months, Jax and Jolene were definitely still in the "honeymoon" stage. After wasting four years apart, on a permanent honeymoon was where they hoped to stay for the rest of their lives, which was why Jolene gave a sigh of relief when she peeked in on Abel and saw him finally fast asleep.

_The little booger tried every trick in the book to stay up_, she thought with a smile.

After three bedtime stories, a drink of water, and a bathroom run, she finally got Abel to settle down for the night. Life in the Teller household was starting to settle into a steady routine as well, which made Jolene giddy with joy. After the manic craziness of Gemma's fairytale biker wedding, followed swiftly by a honeymoon in Lake Tahoe, the newlyweds had returned to Charming and were quickly thrown back into the reality of their lives, including their respective jobs and responsibilities. Jolene as wife, mother, daughter, and educator, and Jax, back in the saddle of his very demanding position as Vice President of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original.

Jolene sighed as she turned off the lights in the hallway and headed towards the master bedroom. The honeymoon, which had taken place during spring break right after the wedding, had been short, but oh-so sweet. Her Uncle Elvis had, as a wedding present, managed to secure for them a one-room cottage right along the lake. Although not as spectacular as the cabin they had on their engagement weekend, it was secluded and cozy and did not have the shadow of the tragic events that had followed their first trip.

As Jax had predicted, they had spent their honeymoon pretty much without the benefit of clothes. They made the most of their alone time together, and although she had missed her baby Abel, it was almost like they were the only two people on earth. As far as Jax was concerned, it was the perfect honeymoon because the last thing he wanted to do was share his old lady with the whole world if he didn't have to.

But even though Jolene was a big fan of "naked time" herself, she also knew that naughty lingerie was an important part of a woman's wardrobe. Just when a man thought he knew his woman, it kept him on his toes and reminded him just why he had fallen so hard in the first place. Although Jax didn't need any help in that department, underwear with strategically placed holes certainly did keep the home fires burning.

_Luann was always right on the money about things like that_, Jolene thought poignantly.

It was the death of her stepmother's oldest and dearest friend that had brought Jolene to Big Otto, who in turn had brought her to her senses. Jolene missed Luann dearly, but if something good could come from such a tragedy it was that Jolene had her old man back because of it and now, with their son, they could finally be a family.

Looking at her watch, Jolene gave a little yelp when she saw the time. Jax had told her that he hoped to be home by 11:00, which gave her slightly a little over half an hour before he showed up. Flinging off the tank top and shorts she had been wearing, Jolene ran into their bathroom to take a quick shower.

She had a lot of work to do before her old man walked in the door.

* * *

Devon's Irish Bar was probably as Irish a pub as you could get. Other than crossing the Great Pond that was the Atlantic, that is. Charming had a population of approximately 15,000 residents and there were a large number of bars that served the town, including Devon's. Located several blocks off Main Street, the bar was frequented mostly by locals, who often dropped by on the way home for a pint of imported Irish ale after a hard day at work, as well as by the fourth and fifth generation American-born Irish locals from as far as Modesto and Lodi.

Many of Devon's patrons were well aware of the bar's rumored ties to the Irish Rebellion. The Pub, as it was affectionately known among the regulars, was responsible for raising thousands of dollars which was sent back to Ireland to aid the RIRA. The Pub also provided a safe haven for those who conducted business on behalf of the Cause.

Which was why Clay was currently sipping on a Guinness that the bartender and owner had offered free of charge. Dressed in plainclothes, Clay sat with Jax in a darkened corner of the Pub close to the rear exit. Jax surveyed the dark-paneled room, while Tig sat in the opposite corner, a strategic position which allowed him to watch the entrance.

"He's late." Jax said, referring to Michael McKeavey, the longtime liaison between SAMCRO and the RIRA.

"It's not like him, but he has yet to miss a meeting." Clay replied, lighting one of his favorite cigars.

Word had come down from halfway across the world that the RIRA wanted to have a sit down with the Sons. Coming so soon after his sit down with the Irish Kings at his daughter's wedding, Clay had a bad feeling about the whole night and he said as much to his VP.

"None of this feels right." Clay said, rolling his cigar between his thick fingers. "Any thoughts you'd like to share?"

Jax, whose mind had started wandering towards all the naughty things he intended on doing with his new wife when he got home, pulled his mind out of the gutter and back onto Club business.

"The _rough patch _the Kings told us about, according to Chibs' contact in Belfast, is a lot more serious than they let on. The word 'insurgency' was thrown out there, off the record, of course." Jax started. "At most, I was hoping for a repeat of the shit that went down a few years back when we couldn't get merch for a while. But another sit down so soon and word of a rebellion within the Rebellion makes me think they're stepping up their fundraising efforts."

"Shit! You mean by raising our cost?" Clay growled.

He too had hoped for the worst case scenario to involve a delay in future shipments. That the Club was prepared to deal with. Not only had SAMCRO been able to accumulate serious bank over the last few years, they still had plenty of ways to earn with the small hardware they could hardly keep in stock and their recent agreement with the Wahewa to sell the ammo the tribe manufactured. If that was the worst they had to deal with, then so be it. However, Clay didn't like Jax's second scenario at all.

"If that's the case, their _fundraising efforts _are going to significantly cut into our business." Clay stated.

Jax nodded grimly. "LaRoy and the other crews probably won't take too kindly to a raise in pricing, but with the Niners H-business thriving, LaRoy can afford the bump. The other, small-time crews may fall by the wayside because they can't. We may not feel it right away, but long-term, SAMCRO's gonna end up losing money. We might have to consider expanding our customer base."

_Expand our customer base_, Clay let the words rattle around his brain.

Suddenly, grasping the direction his VP was leading him in, Clay sat up straight. "The Mayans?" He asked incredulously.

"Hey, I'm just thinking out loud, but it's something we might have to seriously consider." Jax replied. "Aside from the Niners, what other crew do you know can afford our merch?"

Not even taking into consideration the Club's deal with LaRoy not to sell to Alvarez, the thought of doing business with a sworn enemy rubbed Clay raw. Bad blood between the Sons and the Mayans went a long way, back to when JT was still alive and sitting at the head of the table. Bloody '92 was the worst period in SOA history, and Clay did not want a repeat of that shit. Like it or not, however, his VP was right. Times are achangin' and maybe it was time to review old policies. At the very least, maybe they could renegotiate a new deal with the Niners that would keep their gun business profitable.

"You make a good case, VP, but until we know for sure, there's no point in borrowing trouble." Clay stated, his cigar clenched between his teeth.

Just as Jax raised his shot glass of Jack to his lips, the Pub's doors swung open and two men entered. With narrowed eyes, Jax watched them approach the bar to speak with Seamus Devon, the burly bald-headed Irish ex-pat who owned the bar. As Devon pointed a finger in their direction, Jax straightened in his chair.

"Looks like we're about to have company." He warned Clay as he slipped his hand under the table to check his KA-BAR.

Clay lowered his glass to the table and, as both men approached, Clay and Jax stood up.

"Good evening to you gentleman." The older of the two men directed at Clay with an unmistakable Irish accent, "I believe that I am addressing Clay Morrow, yes?"

"That you are. And just who might you be?" Clay asked silkily.

"My name is Jimmy O'Phelan and this here," Pointing to his companion, "Is my associate Luke Moran."

With his game face on, Jax took a good look at O'Phelan. With the slim, but muscular build of a runner, the man whose closely cropped dark hair was shot through with gray, looked to be in his late 40's, early 50's. Tall and stylishly dressed in what, to Jax's inexperienced eye, appeared to be a custom made suit casually worn, O'Phelan resembled a debonair Irish businessman on holiday more than he did someone connected to the RIRA.

On the other hand, his companion, Luke Moran, was the complete opposite. Short and stocky, wearing a cheap-looking suit that hung limply over his mushy frame, Moran stood at attention by O'Phelan's side. Although it appeared that maybe, back in the day, Moran had been built like a wrestler, it was apparent from the large gut currently hanging over his belt buckle that Moran enjoyed his pints and meat and potatoes much more than his associate.

With no sign of McKeavey, Jax was starting to share in his President unease as he wondered, _Who the fuck are these two_?

"Well, aren't you well-mannered?" Clay smiled engagingly. Pointing a thick thumb at Jax, Clay said, "And this here is _my_ associate, Jackson Teller. Now that we've all properly introduced ourselves, do you mind telling me why in the hell I should want to know you?" He asked belligerently.

Pulling back a chair from the table, O'Phelan sat down leisurely and crossed his legs, with Moran following suit. "My associate and I are travelling on business from the Six Counties. I believe we have a mutual friend." Looking at Clay, O'Phelan paused. "Michael McKeavey?"

Clay, who had also reseated himself, leaned back in his chair and relit his cigar, which had gone out. "The name may ring a bell or two." Clay said suavely. "What's he to you?"

Moran, finally opened his mouth to answer Clay's question. "A good friend and brother, who we regret to inform you, is no longer amongst the living."

Clay's hand holding his cigar paused on the way to his mouth. "What?"

O'Phelan nodded. "Sadly, McKeavey passed away a week ago Thursday as a direct result of an unfortunate series of events."

"And just what events were those?" Jax asked grimly. "And why, for that matter, should we believe a word of what you're saying?"

"The events were grim, boyo." O'Phelan spoke with an edge in his voice. "And you should believe me because for the last two months McKeavey reported directly to me." Seeing Tig, who had silently moved himself into close range of his target, nodded at him. "You might want to call off your attack dog, Clay. I would hate to start off this new venture with you being a man short."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that would happen." Clay advised with a mirthless chuckle.

Cocking his head at Tig, who grinned at the man maniacally, O'Phelan reached slowly with his index finger and thumb into his breast coat pocket, pulled out an envelope and tossed it on the table.

Reaching for the envelope, Jax opened it and spread out the contents for all to see. The six photos were casual shots of O'Phelan, Moran, and McKeavey at a pub, apparently in Belfast.

"As you can see, Michael was more than just a soldier to our Cause. He was a personal friend and I will miss him very dearly." O'Phelan said with much feeling.

Clay nodded in sad resignation. "You do understand that we had to be sure of your connections."

"Absolutely. No hard feelings."

"What happened to McKeavey?" Jax asked, his guard still up.

"He was a victim of a greedy port official out of Oakland." Moran replied. "Against the advice of Jimmy O, McKeavey decided it was time to try and reestablish the old route for shipping our guns through Oakland. Claimed Vancouver was no longer cost-efficient. Unfortunately, his former port contact had been replaced by a new official, an evil bastard who decided that he didn't want a pay-off, but a cut of our profits. Michael objected, harsh words were exchanged, threats made, and finally the port official had him brutally murdered."

Clay shook his head grimly. Losing a business associate was one thing. Those were always replaceable, but Michael McKeavey had been a dear friend of Clay's going back almost 25 years. Their personal friendship and McKeavey's business association with the Club went back to when JT had first set up the gun running operation with the Irish.

"Is there a plan for retaliation in the works? Anyway we can help?" Jax asked.

"Michael was not just our contact with the RIRA. He was a good friend. You just give the word, and the Sons will take care of it." Clay offered.

O'Phelan nodded. "Michael spoke very highly of you and the Sons. Indeed, I truly appreciate the sentiment and the offer of assistance, but retaliation will be handled in-house and before I leave stateside. Michael was a loyal soldier and brother. He will be avenged."

As amicable and charming as Jimmy O appeared to be, Jax had an extremely sensitive ear for bullshit and his bullshit meter was registering off the charts.

"I apologize in advance for sounding like a douche bag," Jax started. "But how does McKeavey's death affect the Sons and our relationship with the RIRA?"

_Leave it to JT's boy to cut right to the heart of the bullshit_, Clay chuckled to himself.

O'Phelan's ice blue eyes clashed with Jax's steely-eyed glare.

"For all intents and purposes, it doesn't." Jimmy O replied. "Ours is a dangerous business and contingency plans are always on tap. My job is to oversee the Cause's efforts in this part of the world to generate funds. Michael reported to me, and I in turn report to the Irish Kings. With Michael's passing, and considering your long history with the RIRA, the Kings asked that I call this meeting to personally introduce myself, as well as your new contact," O'Phelan nodded to Moran. "And to discuss our current arrangement with the Sons and your future shipments."

Clay exchanged looks with Jax, who raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. _I'm really starting to hate it when he's right_, Clay thought.

"As you are aware, our struggles for a free and united Ireland are hard and expensive. The Cause is moving apace and we need to move along with it, which makes keeping our coffers full a difficult task, at best. In recent months, we have experienced a series of setbacks for which a greater cash flow is needed. The Irish Kings have decided that we are long overdue for a bump in selling price and we are here to bring to you their new terms for doing business." Jimmy O explained.

"Any questions so far?" Luke asked, looking directly at Jax, who had finally downed his shot of whiskey.

Jax shook his head slowly. "I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Yeah, O'Phelan. Just give us the numbers." Clay insisted, waving his cigar impatiently.

"Now that you have expanded your gun business to include several of your charters, your current order stands at $325K twice a month and with no increase in over 2 years. The Kings have decided that an increase to $400K a shipment, for the same merch, is more than fair." Jimmy O explained.

"Fair for who?" Jax asked indignantly. "For you, 'cause that's a hell of an increase."

_And completely out of the blue_.

Of all the things discussed with the Irish Kings the night of his wedding, money or the lack thereof was never an issue. Jax's gut was rarely, if ever, wrong and right now, it was telling him that they were getting played. But with Clay giving him a look that screamed for him to pull it back a little, Jax relaxed and pulled out his pack of cigarettes.

_There goes my promise to Jo to cut back_, Jax thought lighting is fifth cigarette of the day.

"All is fair in love and war, boyo," Jimmy O smirked. "And right now my brothers and I are fighting a war on the losing end."

"While you and your _brothers_ worry about maintaining a lifestyle you have grown accustomed to, we worry about maintaining our lives." Luke interjected.

"Because running guns is like selling real estate?" Clay asked, a little irked. "We have our own risks to shoulder, so this tit-for-tat bullshit will get us nowhere. I'll just remind you, we have an agreement with the RIRA for special pricing the helps in keeping our costs down considering the risks _we_ take brokered by none other than McKeavey himself."

"Yes, that is true, but McKeavey was old guard and your organization is not the only one seeing a change in pricing. We've had to pass this increase to all of our clients, across the board, including the Russians up North and the Albanian crews on the East Coast. There is no unfairness in this. It's simply business. Of course, we don't expect you to come to a decision right away, but we are the only ones who have your merchandise available—" O'Phelan trailed off, knowing he had them by the short hairs.

_What other decision could we possibly make that would not have an __all-around adverse effect_, Jax thought resignedly.

Either SAMCRO plays nice and cooperates or they were facing losing all of their business, most likely to the Russians operating out of Northern Oregon and the Rogue River charter would not be at all happy about that.

Over the past four years, Clay had expanded the gun business to several other charters, including Tacoma, Rogue River, Fresno, Tucson, and Utah. The running of the guns into these territories had not only increased SAMCRO's earnings from the sale of guns at a discount to their brothers, but they also earned 20% of whatever profits those guns generated. The charters who had come on board for the expansion had come to enjoy the benefits of the new business and would not be pleased at the possibility of having the food taken off of their tables all because of a pissing contest between the mother charter and the RIRA.

"We're gonna give your new proposal some serious thought. How can we get in touch with you when we've come to a decision?" Clay asked.

Moran reached into his pocket and pulled out a blank card with a phone number on it.

O'Phelan stood up. "I will be stateside until the end of the week. I would really like to be able to carry back the news of your decision to the Kings." He extended a hand to Clay, which Clay shook.

"All right, we'll do our best to get back to you by the end of the week, O'Phelan." Clay agreed.

"Please, it's Jimmy O to my friends." Nodding at Jax, Jimmy O and Moran casually strolled out of the Pub into the cool evening air.

"What's our next move?" Jax asked, putting out his half-smoked cigarette.

"Before we do anything, we need Intel. Get on the horn with Chibs and see what he can gather regarding McKeavey's death and the dog-and-pony show looking to take a chunk out of our collective asses." Clay instructed Jax, who whipped out his pre-pay. "And tell him to get Juice on it too because we're gonna need as much as he can find by the time we get back to the Clubhouse 'cause we're working against a deadline."

* * *

Jimmy O and Luke got into the gray late-model sedan parked down the block from the Pub.

Slamming the driver's side door, Luke looked at his boss. "How do you think it went down?"

Leisurely pulling out a pack of smokes, Jimmy O lit one and took a deep drag. "I think it went well enough."

Luke sighed. This deal was a big one and although Jimmy was sure that they could handle it, Luke had his doubts. "This is a real risk we're taking, Jimmy."

"Oh, but Luke, my boy, the benefits far outweigh them." Smiling, Jimmy O looked at his second-in-command. "I don't think the Sons will be a problem."

"And if they are?" Luke countered.

"Then we'll find a work-around." Jimmy O replied grimly.

* * *

Jax made sure that he didn't slam the back door in the kitchen. Finding that the door was still unlocked when he entered the house at this late hour had him simmering with anger. However, all thoughts of laying into Jolene for the unlocked door drained from one head and into the other when he pushed the door to their master bedroom open and found a vision lying across their king-size bed.

Jolene, a sexy siren in a red bikini thong set and stripper heels, her dark hair falling in waves onto the pillows, was posed on the bed.

"Hey, baby." Jolene smiled wickedly, her hands traveling slowly down her torso, pausing briefly to squeeze her breasts, finishing their trek over her crow tattoo and ending up underneath the waistband of her underwear at the apex between her legs. "Miss me?"

Watching her teasingly play with her pussy, Jax ran one hand over his face as he quickly shed his cut with the other and kicked off his sneakers. "Damn straight, darlin'." He replied lasciviously, and pounced.

Giving a little squeal, Jolene tried to jump off the bed, but was quickly snatched from behind and pressed up against warm, hard flesh.

Sending shivers down her spine, Jax bit her ear playfully as he asked wickedly, "And just where do you think you're going?"

Jolene turned in his arms. "The plan was to make you work for it a little bit before I gave in." She teased, pulling back to evade his kiss, but Jax had a firm hold on her bare ass cheeks. She wasn't going anywhere. "Sometimes I just give in too easy."

"Babe, there's no such thing as too easy." Jax went in for the kill again, but was thwarted as Jolene pulled his t-shirt up over his head.

Jax watched her, a half grin on his face, as she ran her hands over his muscled chest. She was biting her lip and making small appreciative noises as she trailed her fingers down to his washboard abs, causing him to shudder in anticipation of what she was going to do next. Unbuckling his SAMCRO belt and unzipping his jeans, Jolene smiled up at Jax as she reached in and gripped his erection through the thin material of his boxers.

Jax bit his lip to keep from groaning through the delicious sensations her little fist evoked as she rubbed him deliberately.

"You're hard." She announced, sounding almost surprised.

Jax raised an eyebrow. "Sure looks that way, darlin'."

"For me?" She was looking up at him with bright, doe eyes.

Shit, he was going to make a meal out of her. "What do you think?"

Before she could respond, Jax swept her into his arms, his mouth enveloping hers. It was slow at first as they savored being in each other's arms again after a long day apart. Grabbing fistfuls of her hair, Jax started moving his lips quickly against hers, softly parting them as his tongue sought refuge.

Kissing each other for a long time, Jolene felt herself drifting away when she suddenly gasped. She was breathing heavy, her face buried into the side of his neck as Jax reached between them and let his fingers slide into her already-moist panties.

"You like that?" Jax breathed into her hair as he started rubbing slow, tight circles between her lips.

"Yes . . ." Jolene panted, her breathing erratic.

Stopping himself short of bringing her to the brink, Jax dropped soft kisses on her face as he reached behind her and unfastened the hooks on her bra. Slowly pulling the straps off her shoulders, Jax let her beautiful tits fall against his chest as he tossed aside one of the barriers keeping him from his wife. Gently extracting her hand still wrapped around his dick, Jax laid her on the bed against the pillows as he proceeded to remove his jeans and boxers, their eyes firmly fixed on each other.

Jolene smiled up at her old man. He was beautiful and strong and looked like a Norse god kneeling on the bed over her.

"Take off your panties." Jax commanded, the authority in his voice causing Jolene to quiver.

With half-hooded eyes, Jolene obeyed and hooked her thumbs into her thong, slowly pulling them down. Jax watched, his breathing also slightly erratic and his eyes smiling as they danced over her. Lifting her legs up, she pushed her panties down her thighs, over her bent knees, and pulled them off. Swinging them around once, twice, Jolene tossed them at Jax, hitting his chest.

Jolene coyly bit her index finger and giggled as Jax brought the red thong up to his nose and inhaled, her scent, as usual, driving him mad. Tossing them aside, there were no longer any barriers keeping him from his wife. Unbuckling the sexy six-inch platforms she wore, Jax tossed one over each shoulder and slowly lowered his hard body against her soft, supple one as he started kissing and nuzzling her neck.

"God, Jo, you are so fuckin' beautiful."

Jolene moaned softly, relishing the feel of his body weight on her. Balling her hands in his short, but rapidly-growing hair, Jolene arched her body against his as Jax started the achingly slow process of worshipping her with his mouth, kissing every part of her. Jolene closed her eyes and smiled to herself. She loved when he did this as it reminded her of their first time together. He lovingly took his time kissing her hair, forehead, eyes, nose, and both cheeks before hovering over her mouth and kissing her already-swollen lips lovingly and slow. Moving further, Jax stopped briefly to nip softly at the base of her throat before dropping kisses on her breasts.

Once again, trying to grasp as much of it as she could, Jolene ran her fingers through his hair as he made slow, deliberate circles with his tongue on her pierced nipples. Jolene moaned wantonly as he moved further down her body to where she wanted him the most, and he knew it too. Spreading her legs apart, Jax smiled as he hovered over her moist entrance as Jolene tried desperately to keep from bucking her hips. Without warning, his mouth was on her, his tongue pushing its way inside, savoring her and Jax loved every moan, gasp, and whispered obscenity that escaped her as he pushed her to the edge. She was close, he could feel it.

"Don't, Jax. Please, no, baby." Jolene begged, pushing herself up onto her elbows even as she felt on the brink of passing out. "Not yet. I want you inside me, please."

Flashing her a wolfish grin, Jolene could barely get a groan out before Jax had her on top of him. With her hair tumbling against his chest, she reached down between her legs and stopped him from entering her. Still in the mood to tease him a little longer, Jolene started massaging him gently. She was smiling wickedly as she could tell it was building up in him, too. Jax closed his eyes in pure ecstasy, arched his back, and moaned.

"Darlin', you're killing me." He was breathing heavy as he grabbed hold of her hips. Moving her hands to grip his forearms, Jolene positioned herself over him, and pushed down achingly slow.

They both groaned as Jax felt the familiar tightness he loved latching onto his cock as he stuffed her completely. Jolene began to move against him, slowly at first. With his fingers digging into her delicate skin, Jax bucked his hips as he watched her desperately running her hands through her hair and down her body as she rode his dick mercilessly.

"Oh yeah," Jax groaned, fighting to keep his eyes open and glued to her beautiful bouncing tits. "Like that, baby." Jolene was swiveling her hips and Jax was on the brink of losing his fucking mind.

Jolene let her head fall back as she arched her back. Gripping Jax's muscled thighs, she continued moving against him as she started to feel that all too familiar rumble. Jolene never wanted this feeling to end, but she couldn't think straight. She needed only one thing to drive her over the edge.

"Faster. Please, baby, faster."

Guiding her hips, Jax helped her move as fast and as hard as she could, and neither could take it any longer. Jolene let out a primal scream and Jax growled like an animal as they both exploded against each other. Jolene let herself fall against Jax, before rolling onto her back on the bed, exhausted.

Turning his head towards her as he tried to catch his breath, Jax smiled as Jolene's eyes fluttered closed. "Don't even think about it, woman. I'm not done with you yet."

With her eyes still closed, a smile spread over her beautiful, but sweaty face as Jax reached out to pull her into his arms. Jax's heart, still beating hard and fast, nearly exploded in his chest when he heard a tiny voice.

"Whatcha doing, Daddy?"

As Jolene let out a little yelp-slash-squeal, Jax looked over his shoulder and down to see Abel standing by their bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

_Aw, shit!_

Quickly flinging the bedcovers over Jolene, Jax scrambled in his brain for something to say and finally replied with the best answer he could come up with.

"Mommy and I were wrestling." Jolene flashed him a look that said _What the fuck are you thinking_? Shrugging his shoulders, Jax quickly changed the subject. "What are you doing up, Little Man?"

"I think I heard something under my bed." Abel replied, his bottom lip quivering as a lone tear ran down his cheek.

Jax swung his legs onto the floor and stood up, naked as the day he was born. Walking to Abel, he scooped up his son, and his boxers, off the floor. "Well, let's go check it out." Looking over his shoulder, he winked at a pink-cheeked Jolene. "I'll be back, darlin', but you might want to clean up a little." Jax had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't be returning alone.

In the fifteen minutes that Jax and Abel were gone, Jolene was able to set things straight and had changed into one of Jax's oversized SAMCRO t-shirts. And it was a good thing too because Jax returned with Abel in tow.

"Abel knows there's nothing under his bed, but he thinks it would be a good idea if he spent the night with us anyway." Jax plopped Abel down on the bed and the little boy quickly scooted up right next to his mother to snuggle down.

Jolene smoothed down his hair and kissed him on his forehead. "Are you okay, baby?"

"Uh huh! Daddy said we gonna get a dog." He exclaimed happily.

Jolene whipped her head up to glare at Jax, who held up both of his hands in surrender. "I said we'd _think _about it, babe. It seems that Abel would feel a lot better in his room alone if he had some company."

"Oh, I see." Jolene replied with a smile. "Would you really like to have a dog, baby?"

Abel nodded emphatically. "I'd like a sister more, like Kenny has, but a dog would be fine, too."

Jolene's eyes nearly popped out of her head as Jax did everything he could to contain his laughter, but it still managed to escape as a snort. Jolene shook her head as she marveled at just how intuitive her little boy was. Just like a certain grandma of his that shall remain nameless.

Knowing that they were actively trying to get pregnant again, Jax winked at Jolene. "Maybe if you ask Mommy nicely, she'll consider it, but make it a baby brother first. Daddy needs time to prepare for a daughter."

_I need time to deal with my rage issues_, Jax thought grimly. _Because I will kill the first asshole that pushes up on my daughter, especially if she looks like her mother_.

"Jackson," Jolene started sternly, trying to put not only the topic of babies, but her son to bed as well. "It's time to go to bed. Could you turn off the light, please?"

Joining his family on the king-size bed, Jax reached up to switch off the lamp. Pulling Jolene and his son into his arms with her head resting on his shoulder and their son cocooned between them, Jax dropped a kiss on her lips and one on his son's sweet-smelling head. Jolene wrapped one arm around her old man's waist possessively and, before he could say goodnight, Jax smiled as he watched his wife and son quickly drift off to sleep.


	2. The Troubles

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy**

* * *

Except for the small setback that was having the ATF set up shop in their collective rectums almost five years ago, the Club had enjoyed relative peace and prosperity. The Feds' attempts to link the Sons to gun-running and the Real IRA had gone up in smoke, much like Kyle Hobart had disappeared off the face of the earth. Life in Charming had quieted down considerably after leads into the disappearance of the former-member-turned-rat ran cold. The ATF had no choice but to cut their losses, pull up stakes, and retreat back into their hole. Business with the Irish had resumed its normal course and the Sons continued to enjoy a steady source of income.

Now, with news of McKeavey's untimely death and the introduction of two new players in the game, who had apparently come to town looking to shake up their world, not only was the MC's livelihood in jeopardy, but so was life as they knew it. Needless to say, the mood in the Clubhouse had been grim since Clay and Jax had shared the details of their initial meeting with their new Irish contacts. Not only had Clay lost a good friend, but it seemed that the Club had lost their one ally and advocate within the RIRA. With no shared history or friendship dating back 25 years with the Club, it seemed that Jimmy O and his cohort were determined to squeeze the Sons for as much as they could to close the gap in their fundraising.

Unfortunately, SAMCRO, as it turned out, was soon to be a victim of their own success. Operating almost like a franchise, for the last eight years, the Club had expanded their gun business to include other charters. Now with each charter mirroring SAMCRO's business model, they had established a loyal clientele and had substantially increased their own earnings. An across the board hike would significantly cut into everyone's profits and, as not only the mother charter's President, but as SOA's National President—in effect the Club's CEO—it was Clay's job to find a fix that would benefit the entire MC.

Calling Church to order, Clay banged his gavel.

"Brothers, we've had a couple of days to reflect and collect Intel on our current situation. I'm hoping that we can come up with a counterproposal we can take to the Irish, or we're going to have to find a new way to earn." Clay said grimly.

"If we can't find a way to head off this increase, brother, we always have Cara Cara, the garage, and our protection deal with Unser Trucking." Bobby, forever looking on the financial bright side, advised.

"That shit's small potatoes." Tig interjected. "The Sons are outlaw. Gun-running is how we make our money, support our families."

As Clay suspected, his brothers had grown accustomed to money practically growing on trees. Anything other than a deal that would provide for a profitable business wouldn't fly.

"Before anything is decided, we have to know what we're dealing with." Clay said, pointing his gavel at Chibs. "What have you been able to find out through SAMBEL and your other contacts in Belfast?"

Chibs grunted. "It's not looking good, brutha. Tensions are at a boiling point in the Six Counties. The Cause has taken several significant hits and they are in desperate need of new blood, but no one's exactly beating down their door. New recruits are at an all time low."

"What have you been able to find out about Jimmy O?" Jax asked as he lit a cigarette.

"He's got a reputation for being a tough son of a bitch. He's third generation IRA and started his career as a soldier. He certainly knows his hardware and is considered something of a weapons expert." Chibs explained. "Along with their recruiting issues, there also seems to be some internal shake up going on within the organization, which is why this O'Phelan was moved up from the frontline to now running the gun show. He's quite popular among the rank-and-file, but impressed a few of the shot callers with his ability to generate a shit load of coin in otherwise cash-strapped Eastern-bloc countries. Enough of an impression that it was decided to send his expertise stateside. However, there are those who seem to think that he's advanced too far, too fast and they're undecided on whether he's actually earned the trust to operate virtually unchecked."

"How does knowing any of this affect the decision we have to make?" Piney asked.

"According to McGee, with bigger issues to deal with, all the RIRA wants from us right now is our money and our contacts to traffic their hardware. Jimmy O's word carries much weight. We irk him by 'stepping out of line' and he has enough clout to convince the Kings that they may no longer have a use for us. We need to tread very carefully here, bruthas."

"It seems to me like we don't have a choice to do otherwise." Opie stated grimly. He looked around the table. "If we want to earn, we may have to play ball."

"I agree." Jax spoke up, surprising Clay, who whipped his head around to face his VP. "I know," Jax said in response to Clay's unspoken question. "I don't want to back down any more than you do, but taking what Chibs just said into consideration, this Jimmy O seems legit, so we have no other recourse but to play his way. That being said, we'll play by his rules, but we get to set the terms."

Clay quirked an eyebrow. "Where are you going with this? Jimmy O didn't come across like he was open to negotiation."

"Tough shit. Our relationship with the RIRA spans over a quarter of a century." Jax tapped the Redwood table with two ringed fingers for emphasis. "SAMCRO put them on the map in the States thanks to the deal my father structured with the Irish Kings to help them branch out, netting themselves big fish like the ROC. We've earned the right not to be dictated to."

"The boy's right, Clay. They're spitting in our face with this increase." Piney said gruffly.

Clay looked at his VP's determined face. "What do you have in mind, brother?" He queried.

"I'm thinking that Jimmy O needs reminding of who he's dealing with. We may not be as big as the ROC, but we are responsible for making their presence known stateside. We don't _expect_ special treatment. We _demand_ it because we've earned it. We need to negotiate a special courtesy rate in recognition of our long-standing relationship." Jax explained. "Not anything that would be considered over the top, but enough so that the RIRA remembers that we are Sons and we won't be treated like shit. And by paying a moderate increase, we show that we still respect the RIRA and appreciate our ongoing business relationship. In addition, I say we press them for more contacts that can set us up with small arms. We should continue expanding our market for the smaller hardware in case the RIRA oversteps their bounds and _we _no longer have a use for them."

Clay looked at his VP and at that moment, realized just how much he had missed having Jax sitting on his left. Bobby had done a fine job while Jax was on the inside, but he simply did not have Jax's savvy when it came to operational matters.

_The man is always thinking long-term for his brothers and the Club_.

But Clay liked pushing Jax to his limits, so he kept his poker face on, withholding his approval just a little longer. "And what if Jimmy O isn't in a generous mood and refuses to cut us a break?"

"Then we consider taking it to the Irish Kings themselves. The relationship my father established with the RIRA was with _them_. And, if we handle the meet with Jimmy O right, it may not even need to go that far. The threat of going over Jimmy O's head may be enough for him to relent, go to them on our behalf. He's not going to want to look like a pussy in front of his bosses so soon after taking over their fund-raising operation." Jax reasoned.

"All right." Clay smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "That's real solid thinking, Jax. It's going to have to be played smoothly, but I think it could work."

Glancing around the table and seeing the nods and grins of approval from all of his brothers on Jax's plan, Clay picked up the gavel. "Let's take a vote. All in favor of Jax's plan, say 'aye'." As all around the table complied, Clay smiled a shit-eating grin.

"Jax, you, Ope and Chibs work out terms you think Jimmy O can live with. We'll meet again tomorrow to discuss. We need to finalize this shit fast because we're set to meet with the Irish on Friday." Clay slammed the gavel down. "Meeting adjourned."

As the brothers headed out of Chapel and headed towards the bar, Clay called for his VP and SAA to hang back for a moment.

As the doors closed behind Juice, Jax looked at Clay. "What's the problem?"

"No problem. I'm just a little concerned that this shit with the Irish had to start up now." Clay replied, chewing on an unlit cigar.

Tig crossed his arms over his chest. "You mean because of SAMTAZ?"

"Yeah, I do."

The Tucson Chapter of the Sons had worked along with SAMCRO to expand their gun running efforts in Arizona. SAMTAZ had proven highly profitable, second only to Tacoma in sales. Led by their President Little Paul, the Charter had recently decided that it wanted to handle all of the transportation of their merch from Charming, thereby reducing the vig they were currently paying SAMCRO for their assistance from 25% to 20%. Little Paul had also suggested sending his VP and a couple of new patches to Charming for a couple of months to work directly with SAMCRO to get a handle on the business. The VP was already making suggestions on ways to expand SAMTAZ's profit share by handling their own assembly of the AKs and MAC-10s, which wasn't sitting well with Clay.

Clay pointed a finger at Tig. "Huff will be down here in time for Church on Friday, so we need to get this shit handled with the Irish and under wraps. The last thing we need is talk circulating back to SAMTAZ and the other charters that SAMCRO can't handle their shit, or that the MC's ability to earn is in jeopardy."

"As it is, I'm not liking this bullshit talk about them handling their own assembly." Jax commented. "Assembling automatics is tricky shit and parceling out the job to the other charters can easily blow back on us."

"VP's right." Tig agreed, scratching the hair on his chin. "I've seen too much bad shit go down because of sloppy work by people who don't know what the fuck they're doing. Right now, we guarantee the quality of every gun that goes out of Bluebird." Tig said, referring to their base of operations. "If one of _our_ guns blows up in somebody's face, we're responsible no matter who put them together. Gun-running is SAMCRO's gig and, even though Huff's a brother, I don't like the idea of an outsider coming to our house and dictating how we run our business."

"I agree 100%." Jax folded his hands on the Redwood table. "SAMCRO's been doing this shit for decades. SAMTAZ has been in the game for a few years and suddenly they're fuckin' experts? I know Little Paul trusts Huff, but we don't know him well enough to. Not knowing shit about the business and he's already looking to cut us out and take money out of our pockets. Without us, they ain't got shit, so already I'm not impressed. I say let's keep him out of the loop for now, keep him busy with miscellaneous shit until we see where he's at."

Clay nodded. He liked the fact that he could rely on his VP and SAA, that they were quick to pick up on what he was thinking. "Have dorms been set up for Huff and his crew?"

"Yeah, I had Half-Sack clear out a few rooms." Tig replied.

"Good. I don't want it to be said that the mother charter ain't hospitable."

* * *

Sitting on their bikes on a deserted stretch of road, Clay and Jax watched as Jimmy O and his sidekick drove towards them.

"It's about damn time." Jax said irritably. "Waiting for these guys is starting to become a habit."

Clay nodded. He was getting a little tired of this shit, too. "You ready, VP?"

"More than ready." Jax replied as he lit up a cigarette.

The gray sedan pulled to a stop about 10 feet away. Getting out of the car, Jimmy O and Luke strolled casually up to the Sons.

"Hello Clay, Jax." Jimmy O held out his hand. "I apologize for the lateness. A little trouble was stirring up back home and it needed to be dealt with."

"No problem." Clay said. "Is everything all right?"

"Just fine." Quickly jumping to the matter at hand, Jimmy O started, "I want to let you know, Clay, that the situation with the port official has been brought to a successful conclusion. Brenan Hefner will no longer be a problem for anyone ever again."

"That's good to hear." Clay replied.

"I will be heading back home tomorrow, so as you can imagine, I am quite eager to wrap up our unfinished business." Jimmy O advised.

"We certainly hope you still feel that way once you hear what we have to say." Jax responded, earning a quizzical look from both Jimmy O and Luke. "We understand that you're new to your current position, so you may not be aware that the Sons have been doing business with the RIRA for over 25 years. It's a special relationship, one established on mutual trust and profit to help fund the Cause and to provide a living for SAMCRO. While we understand the need for the RIRA to increase their revenue, we believe that this long-standing relationship has entitled SAMCRO not to be treated like just another client in this regard."

Jimmy O looked at Jax, a stone cold expression on his face. "Oh, I am aware, lad, of your 'special relationship'. But times are tough and to make an exception, albeit for a long-standing client, would send the wrong message."

Clay picked up the ball. "Maybe this is something we need to discuss with the Irish Kings. I've known Declan Brogan, Peter Dooley and Brendan Rourke for many years and, while I wouldn't say that we were the best of friends, I have to think that they would have discussed the possibility of an increase with us when they attended my daughter's wedding less than two months ago."

"That makes sense, especially since they saw fit to share their concerns with us regarding the RIRA's recent spate of troubles caused by certain internal affairs." Jax added.

"SAMCRO's not so unreasonable as to not understand that a moderate raise in our cost is a necessary evil. But if you don't have the pull or the authority to make this happen, maybe it is best if I speak with the Irish Kings directly." Clay smiled enigmatically.

Jimmy O flashed Clay a similar, albeit tight, smile. "As it currently stands, _all_ money-related business for the Cause is under _my_ authority," He replied tersely. "So all that would be needed is for me to give the word.

Waiving to Moran, both men turned and had a brief discussion and then turned back to face them. "After your heartfelt request, I would agree that the Sons have a valid point." Jimmy O advised.

Jax took a drag of his cigarette. "Enough of a point to make an exception in our case?"

"Possibly." Jimmy O replied. "Exactly what did you have in mind?"

"We believe that a 10% increase is more than reasonable." Clay smiled broadly. "In addition, we're interested in expanding our small firearms business. In the past, McKeavey had put us in contact with a number of smaller arms dealers who supplied us with hand guns and light assault weapons, which proved quite profitable. We believe we can increase revenue with some more introductions to some of the dealers of the smaller hardware you may be acquanited with."

"Well, in consideration of the long-standing business relationship between the Sons and the RIRA, I believe that a 10% increase is doable." Jimmy O looked at Luke. "Is there anything we can do for our brothers here, as far as expanding their business?"

"There is that Russian matter that still needs resolution." Luke replied.

"Ah, yes." Jimmy O nodded. "As it stands, our Russian friends are looking for someone to mule a few shipments of small arms for them—Glocks, TEC-9's, andTactical M4 Rifles–to Oregon and Canada. It is possible that I may be able to convince them to do business with the Sons. You mule for them and they sell you the smaller hardware. That's as far as my involvement would go. I cannot negotiate a selling price for you, understood?"

Clay smiled and nodded. "Understood. After all, we're not new to the game."

"Then, we're agreed." Jimmy O held out his hand, which was lost in Clay's meat hooks. "Luke will be contacting you in ten days to arrange for your next shipment of AKs and MAC-10s and by then, we will have reached out to our Russian friends." Nodding to Jax, Jimmy O turned away and headed for his car.

"Nice doing business with ya." Clay grinned happily.

* * *

Luke looked at Jimmy O as they walked back to the car. "I told you they might be a problem, Jimmy."

"Yes, you did." Jimmy O countered, opening the passenger side door. "But everything is under control, boyo." He smiled grimly. "We'll give the Sons what they want. We won't collect as much for _our_ Cause, but it will be enough . . . For now."

* * *

Clay was in a pretty good mood after his meet with the Irish. Things had gone according to plan and it looked like the Sons would be in line for some new business, as well. This bit of news had gone a long way in easing the tension at the table as Jax updated their brothers during Church.

The only bump in the road was waiting for the SAMTAZ VP to show up. He was hours late, but Clay reasoned that Tuscon to Charming was a hell of a long ride, so maybe it was okay to cut him some slack. Better some traffic and a long ride holding him up than some real trouble.

Had Clay known that it might have been better had Huff not shown up at all, he might have taken a cue from his VP, and headed home ealry to his old lady. And it was a very good thing that Jax, eager to get home to his family, had stayed for only about an hour at the after-Church party. Otherwise, things could have gotten nasty.

As it was, it took everything in Clay not to lose his shit when Huff walked into the Clubhouse with Wendy Case on his arm. The first warning alarm had been hearing Bobby swear at the top of his lungs. Standing at the bar, Clay turned his head and got his first eye-popping view of his stepson's ex-wife.

Wearing a skintight white tank top, white jeans and white stiletto biker books, Wendy made quite a picture, with her curves outlined to perfection. The white tank also emphasized the fist-sized tattoo on her upper arm that proclaimed she was the Property of Huff Kagen.

"Oh my God, is he fuckin' serious?" Juice stared as a bunch of croweaters and sweetbutts ran over to welcome back home one of their own, and Jax's ex-Reno Whore wasted no time in showing off her new status as Huff's old lady.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Happy's gravelly voice echoed in the Clubhouse. "I thought Jax ran her ass out of town on a rail."

"That's what I'm about to find out." Clay declared. However, as he turned around, Clay found himself being embraced by his Tucson brother.

Pulling back, Clay took a long, hard look at the SAMTAZ VP. In his early-to-mid-50's, Huff had been VP of the Tucson charter for the last five years. The man had aged, but still had an impressive physique and while not overly attractive, he wouldn't scare off little children at night. Clay had to question, however, how much of a brain he had to show up in Charming with Jax's ex-gash in tow.

After the big blow out wedding of the Prince of Charming and the SAMCRO Princess, pretty much everyone in the MC World knew that Wendy Case was _persona non grata _in Charming. Clay was left with no other alternative but to conclude that Little Paul's VP was indeed light on gray matter and thus, not too swift on the uptake.

And he would be right.

Huff had actually thought that he had scored something special in his new old lady. At 54, Huff had started to think that it might be time for him to finally settle down with a woman to take care of his needs as he started moving into his golden years. Unlike the mother charter, the SAMTAZ Clubhouse didn't have much in the way of "amenities" and the availability of women willing to spread for the aging biker were getting few and far between.

Huff had often enjoyed himself whenever he visited the other charters, with SAMCRO being a particular favorite, especially while Jax Teller had been in Chino. Wendy's willingness to exercise the prison clause had afforded him the frequent opportunity to bang the VP's old lady. Huff may in fact be twenty-plus years older than Jax, but the old saying was true, in his case at least: there may be snow on the roof, but there was a raging fire in the furnace. He took pride that he was well-equipped to satisfy the strong sexual appetites of the younger woman, who had complained that her husband did not want conjugal visits while he was in prison. Jax's old lady was very talented in terms of taking care of a man's baser instincts and Huff couldn't see why Jax didn't take advantage of the girl's skills. It had occurred to Huff that maybe the golden boy of Charming was a closet homosexual. In any case, Huff was nobody's fool and instead of bragging to his brothers from other charters that he was banging the SAMCRO VP's old lady on the regular, he decided to keep his little sexcapades with Wendy a closely guarded secret.

However, when Wendy showed up in Tucson a couple of weeks after Teller's marriage to Jolene Morrow, Huff decided to snatch up the 38 year old ex-stripper while the opportunity had presented itself and had marked her with a property tat. Now, standing in the SAMCRO Clubhouse, Huff was getting the distinct feeling that he had stepped in the shit big time.

"You. Me. In the Chapel. Now." Clay growled as he headed towards the Chapel doors.

"Something tells me that this is going to be a short visit." Tig snarked at a smirking Happy.

* * *

_I'm getting too old for this shit._

Clay stood outside the Tellers' front door, hesitating to ring the bell. It was early Saturday morning, a morning that he should have spent relaxing after the festivities at the Clubhouse the night before. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.

Not in the least.

Pressing the doorbell, Clay waited as the chimes resounded throughout the house and finally reached the warm and sleepy couple, who had just started fooling around.

"Damn it." Jolene moaned as Jax continued working his mouth magic on her and ignored the doorbell. "Who the hell is that?"

"Don't know, don't really care, darlin'." Jax replied, barely coming up for air. "They'll go away when nobody answers the door."

Unfortunately, Jax was wrong. The visitor simply continued to lay on the doorbell.

"Motherfucker!" Pulling away from his old lady, Jax scrambled off their bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants he had left on the floor the night before. Turning his head, Jax caught a glimpse of his old lady propped up against the pillows, her hands fluffing up her bed head and her full and luscious tits amply displayed before him. Sporting a lecherous grin, Jax climbed right back into bed.

A pillow hit him square in the face, stopping him in his tracks. "Just go, get rid of them and come back before Abel wakes up! Unless, of course, you'd rather walk around today with a set of blue balls." Jolene stated, bringing the bed sheet up to her neck.

At that, Jax sprinted downstairs and to the front door before the doorbell rang again. However, seeing his father-in-law through the beveled window glass surrounding the front door as he approached, Jax sighed.

Throwing open the door, Jax didn't let Clay get a word in edgewise. "I'm sure you'll be happy to know that your cock-blocking sense is still as sharp as ever, but we're married now, so enough with the buzz-killing, bro." Waiting for Clay to shoot back a snarky retort, Jax was surprised when he didn't get one. Taking a close look at his President's tired face Jax realized that this wasn't a social call. "What's going on?"

"How about letting me in off the damn doorstep and I'll tell you?"

Feeling a little better at the delayed, but cocky retort, Jax ushered Clay in. When Clay suggested that they go down to Jax's man cave, he knew something was up.

The men walked down stairs to the basement where Jax had a man cave that even Clay had come to envy. The large rectangular room had actually been completely designed and decorated by Jolene. Clay had warned his son-in-law that letting his daughter loose in there was probably a big mistake, but Jax decided to trust his old lady.

Jolene had kept the room padlocked until it had been completely done. To be honest, Jax had been a little leery himself, but had resigned himself to live with whatever the result. A man cave wasn't worth the risk of hurting his old lady's feelings.

He should have trusted Jolene, who not only knew him intimately, but had called on one of his brothers to help her completely trick out his room. Juice had helped Jolene create the ultimate man cave and now it seemed that the newlyweds had more male company in their home in the two months that they had been hitched than in the three years they had lived together in their old home.

The entertainment center was the focal point of the room. The 70" high definition LED flat screen was mounted on the left wall. With a full surround sound system, and the latest in entertainment and gaming consoles, it was the ultimate of entertainment systems.

In the far corner was a large desk with a computer built into its flat touch screen and the walls surrounding it covered with many photos of the Teller family, old and new.

The room itself was decorated in dark earth tones of brown, green and black with touches of blue and burgundy for color. The large oversized leather furniture screamed "men only". The walls opposite the entertainment center were covered with a montage of photos of their SOA heritage from its early days that Jolene had professionally blown up and mounted in matching dark wood frames.

Finally, the beautiful polished wood bar that spanned the wall next to the room's entrance was fully stocked with just about every liquor known to man.

Clay sighed enviously as he sat down in one of the comfortable chairs opposite his son.

_I might need to get baby girl to redo my man cave_.

Pulling his thoughts back to the matter at hand, he looked at Jax. "We have a problem."

"Well, I think you showing up at 7:30 in the morning on a Saturday would signify that." Jax replied. "So what the hell is it?"

"I need to know if you're going to go ape-shit on me because I really can't deal with that right now." The fact that Clay's tone was deadly serious did not bode well.

"I can't promise shit until I know what it is, so maybe you should just spill it, bro."

"Huff finally showed up last night. And he wasn't alone. Wendy was with him."

For a moment, Jax was sincerely puzzled. "Wendy who?" As his father-in-law met his eyes, it finally hit Jax. "Tell me you are fuckin' with me."

"I wish to God I could, son." Clay sighed wearily. Jax rubbed his face with both hands.

_Damn it! Not now. Not when things are so good with me and Jo._

"It gets worse."

Jax's eyes whipped up to meet Clay's. "How can it possibly get worse?"

"She's his old lady."

"Is he fuckin' stupid?" Jax nearly roared.

"Initially, I didn't think so, but now I'm sure he's thinking with his dick more than anything else, so yeah. He is fuckin' stupid, but here's the problem." Clay started. "None of that matters. If Huff was any other patch, I would expect him to put his wants on the side out of respect for me and mine."

"And that's exactly what should happen." Jax got up and paced the room.

Clay continued as if Jax hadn't spoken. "But he's not. He's SAMTAZ's VP and as an officer, he is due the respect that would be accorded to any visiting officer."

"And what about respect for the mother charter's VP? What about the respect due to my old lady, your daughter?" Jax retorted.

"Don't you think I understand that? I may not like that he's brought that road pussy back to Charming, but now is not the time to get into political back-biting and maneuvering with Huff. If we insist he send his gash back home, he may pick up and leave with her, and it could start up a whole lot of trouble for SAMCRO that we don't have the time to deal with now."

Jax sighed as he lowered himself into the deep leather couch. Technically, he knew that Clay was right, but the thought of having Wendy Case back in his life, the life he was creating with Jolene, made him sick to his stomach.

"Son, I know this is difficult. This may be hard to believe, but I hate this situation even more than you do right now." And it was true.

The fact was that Clay had a very good reason to hate that Wendy had returned. Up until now Clay had managed to keep hidden from everyone, including his beloved daughter, the fact that he was the one responsible for luring Wendy to Charming in the first place, hoping that she would break up the young couple.

Clay knew that he should have confessed that sad truth to his daughter when she had first returned to Charming, thereby wiping the slate fully clean, but he just couldn't do it. Now that everything was settled and Jax and Jolene were happy, Clay did not want this ugly truth to come out. While he was sure Jax had suspected his involvement in the Wendy-fiasco, he had never confronted him about it and Clay did not want to open that can of worms with his VP now. With Wendy in town, exposing Jolene to his participation in that horrible mess at the Clubhouse was all too possible.

Last night, the gash had as good as threatened him to do just that.

After his heated conversation with Huff in the Chapel, which had resolved absolutely nothing, Clay had had enough and decided to head home. Noticing that the lid of his crank case had been tampered with, Clay realized that someone had been fucking around with his bike. Cursing under his breath, he flipped the lid completely open and saw a folded sheet of paper, a note from the gash herself.

In it, Wendy made it quite clear that she was sticking around with her new old man. She had no interest in Jax or Jolene, but made it clear that she would not be run out of Charming. She was staying until her old man finished his business with SAMCRO and they returned to Arizona.

_If you don't smooth the way for me to be with my old man, I will make sure your precious 'baby girl' finds out in the most humiliating way possible just who it was that convinced me to come down and pay Jax a visit._

So here he was trying to convince his son-in-law to allow Huff and his whore to spend the summer associating with the mother charter until he could be trained and sent back home.

"I'm having a hard time seeing it that way, Clay. And if you think I'm having a hard time, that's nothing compared to how Jo is going to react."

"That's why I'm talking to you." Clay pointed a ringed finger at Jax. "I know my baby girl is a handful and she has every right to be territorial, but I spoke to Huff and he has assured me that Wendy does not intend to cause any trouble. As long as we keep the two of them apart, I see no reason why Huff can't learn what he needs to know and get the hell out of here."

Jax shook his head, still not convinced. "For your sake and the sake of my marriage, I hope you're right."

* * *

As was tradition since Jax's return from Chino, Saturday morning in the Teller household consisted of a full pancake breakfast, followed by a couple of hours of father-son time watching cartoons in Jax's tricked out man cave. It was just one of the many family rituals that Jax always looked forward to.

But this morning was a little different. After another favorite Saturday morning ritual of a little leisurely nookie with his wife _before_ breakfast was interrupted, an angry Jax had returned to Jolene and, without saying a word as to their early morning visitor, proceeded to fuck her brains out. As always, an angry Jax was a hot Jax and Jolene had certainly enjoyed it, but she knew her old man well enough to know when he was out of sorts. He didn't get pissed off without a reason and usually had a good one when he did.

They were just coming down from their near-simultaneous orgasms, and Jolene was about to start asking questions, when Abel burst in to greet his parents. Quickly flipping the bed sheet over her naked body, Jolene sighed.

_Why can't my mentally-challenged old man ever remember to lock the damn door?_

Leaving her two men rough-housing on their bed, Jolene took a quick shower and headed downstairs to prepare Neeta's famous chocolate chip pancakes while Jax and Abel took a shower. It was a beautiful morning and Jolene had opened the French doors by the breakfast nook to let in the fresh spring breeze. With only a couple of weeks left to the semester, Jax had been lobbying Jolene to take the summer off, while Pat Doyle was actively pursuing her to teach summer school in Stockton. However, Jolene started to wonder, regardless of what decision she made, just what kind of summer she was in store for as the conversation at the breakfast table took a sharp left.

It was Abel who actually got the ball rolling. Talking around a mouthful of pancakes, Abel commented, "Daddy, was it Papa's bike that woke me up this morning?"

"It was." Jax looked at his son proudly. "How did you know it was him, Little Man?"

"His bike sounds different than yours. It growls more, kinda like Uncle Opie's, but his is different, too." Abel replied.

Jolene quirked her eyebrow. "So it was my dad that dropped by earlier?" She eyed her husband. "You didn't mention that when you came back upstairs." Seeing the cagey look on Jax's face started Jolene's mind racing.

_No, you just screwed me blind to take my mind off of that little detail, didn't ya?_

Jax sighed. Thanks to his old lady, he had managed to work out his own anger and frustration at the bomb that his President had dropped on him. Maybe sharing his misery now with their son present would forestall an epic blowout, but judging by the look on her face he seriously doubted it.

"No, I didn't, darlin'. I guess I needed time to process what he had to say."

"That sounds ominous." Piecing together what she could, it was obvious that her father's early morning visit had not been a social call.

"What does 'minus' mean, Mommy?" Abel piped up.

"It means not good, baby." Jolene replied, her eyes still on Jax. "Let me use it in a sentence. 'The odds against the old lady's husband _not _riding the couch are looking quite ominous.' Does that help?"

Abel wrinkled his nose. "Not really."

"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm sure Daddy can do a better job of explaining it to you, _after _he explains it to me first." Jolene's eyes met her husband's. "So what's the problem?" She said calmly as she poured herself some more coffee.

Jax finally decided to bite the bullet. Dropping the fork on his plate, he leaned back in his chair. "SAMTAZ's VP finally showed up last night, after I had called it a night and came home."

Jolene looked at her old man quizzically. "That's Club business, baby. Why would that be a problem for us?"

"Problems are definitely a possibility since he brought his old lady Wendy with him." Jax moistened his suddenly dry lips.

Sure she was misinterpreting what he had said, Jolene slowly sipped her coffee before putting her mug down. "Wendy who?" She asked softly.

"There's only one that I know of, darlin'." Jax replied grimly.

Jolene's eyes widened as her tongue went numb. "How does something like that happen, Jackson?" Jolene spoke evenly and barely above a whisper. "I thought you had taken care of old rubbish."

Abel, who had finally finished his pancakes, sat and stared at his mother, whose green eyes seemed to have tripled in size. She had called his daddy "Jackson" and, even though she seemed to be smiling, Abel knew that wasn't a good thing. Looking from one parent to the other, he was sure his daddy knew that, too.

"Apparently, after leaving Charming, she went to Arizona and hooked up with SAMTAZ'S VP." Jax explained.

Jolene bit her lip to keep herself from calling the glorified croweater a whore. "She can hook up with the entire flipping Charter for all I care. Still doesn't explain why she's back." She responded calmly, mentally patting herself on the back for not losing her mud in front of their son.

"Because her old man is here on Club business for a couple of months and per Clay, so will she. Believe me, baby, I'm not any happier about this than you are," Jax explained. "But my hands are tied, and so are Clay's. With Club politics the way they are, we need to tread carefully, but Clay won't let Wendy's presence affect us at all and that will be made clear, both to Huff and his woman. I promise."

Seeing her baby watch her with big eyes, Jolene tempered her response. "Okay." Jolene smiled broadly as she grabbed Abel's empty plate. "That's all I needed to hear." She got up from the table and headed to the sink, stopping briefly by Jax's chair to drop a light kiss on his brow furrowed with confusion.

_Who the fuck was I just talking to and what has she done with my old lady?_

* * *

All things considered, Jolene thought that their first official non-argument in front of Abel had gone well. Jolene smiled to herself as she scraped the remnants of their breakfast into the garbage disposal. Leave it to a man to try and prevent a well-deserved ass whupping by discussing a sensitive issue in front of a child.

Jolene had managed to contain her shit partly because Abel was watching her like a hawk, but mostly because, listening to Jax, Jolene realized there was really nothing she could do about the situation. All she could do was trust that her father and her husband knew what they were doing in allowing that no good, low-life, crab-infested, cranked-out pussy back into their lives. Why create unnecessary drama in her home when it was unlikely that her path would even cross with Wendy's?

Besides, it wasn't like she had anything to worry about. After everything they've been through in order to finally end up together and happy, Jolene was woman enough and confident enough to know that Jax would never betray her with that slut again.

_Jax is mine—always has been, always will be. Peace shall reign as long as that heifer knows her place and is kept out of my way._

Standing at the sink, Jolene felt Jax snake his muscular arms around her waist, pressing his body against hers.

"Hey," Jolene smiled as Jax nibbled at her ear. "The Power Ranger Power Hour over already?"

"Nah, Abel's taking a potty break," Jax spun Jolene around and pinned her to the counter. "And I just wanted to check up on my baby." Jolene's eyes drifted closed as Jax buried his hands in her messy ponytail and leaned in, kissing her with authority as if reminding her who she belonged to and, more importanly, who he belonged to as well. "You really okay with all this, darlin'?"

Jolene nodded, her hands on Jax's, who was still holding her face lovingly. "I promise. I've never felt calmer or more clear-headed."

Jax smirked. "I gotta tell you, babe, rage feels a lot like that."

Jolene pulled herself out of his embrace and turned back to loading the dishwasher. "I'm not raging, Jackson."

"You sure about that? That's the second time this morning you've called me by my name. I'm starting to get worried." He teased pinning her once again to the counter until Jolene pushed him away with her butt.

"It's not me you should worry about because, as long as she steers clear, I don't really see a problem. But," Jolene cautioned as she turned to face Jax again. "If that bitch steps one toe out of line with me again, I hope you understand that you're helping me get rid of the body."

Jax smiled as he searched her face. She was deadly serious and too beautiful for words. "Absolutely, darlin'. You can count on me to be the Clyde to your Bonnie."

"That's all I ask." Jolene smiled as she tip-toed and dropped a soft but lingering kiss on his lips before returning to the task of cleaning her kitchen.

It was already shaping up to be a long, hot summer. Unfortunately, Wendy Case was going to be the least of their problems.


	3. Stahled

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy**

* * *

David Hale was sitting at his desk taking a well-earned coffee break after having endured a prolonged visit with his brother. Jacob Hale was once again on his case regarding the town's biggest problem and thorn in its flesh, the Sons of Anarchy.

Looming over him, much like the bully he used to be when they were children, Jacob took great pains to let David know how exceptionally displeased he and their father, Judge Jacob Hale, Sr., were with Charming PD. They were particularly disappointed by what they deemed to be David's lack of commitment to finally ridding the town of the white trash bikers that had their beloved town in a chokehold and kept it from progressing into the 21st Century.

_You've been on the force for over four years_, Jacob had reprimanded angrily. _Father and I had believed that you would have effected at least some changes for the prosperity of the town by now._

_Don't you mean for the 'prosperity' of our family?_ Hale had shot back.

From there, the conversation had quickly gone downhill.

Leaning back in his chair, Hale concentrated on enjoying the cliché of a cop's favorite mid-morning snack—a cup of coffee and a stale glazed donut he had managed to snag from the open box on Deputy Parsons' desk. Anything to keep himself from dwelling on his earlier conversation with his brother. Disgusted, mostly with himself, Hale tossed the half-eaten donut into the trash can by his desk. In spite of the fact that Jacob and their father were undoubtedly more concerned with lining their own pockets than with the welfare of the town, Hale had to begrudgingly admit that they indeed had a point.

Four years was a long time and to not see one positive change in effect was not only very discouraging to his family, but to Deputy Chief Hale as well. He had returned home from military service eager to make a difference in the town that was founded by his great-great-great grandfather Daniel Hale. However, his efforts towards the betterment of the town had not only been thwarted by the scourge of Charming, the Sons, but from within the walls of Charming PD as well and Hale was starting to think that things would never change. SAMCRO, it seemed, was here to stay, their strong presence and heavy hand felt in every decision that was made regarding the fate of Charming. The outlaw biker gang had much in common with the outlaw gangs of the old Wild West, who would hold a town at their mercy until the federal government saw fit to send in the U.S. Marshalls, who would rid of the town of outlaws and save the day.

In spite of his lifelong dream of living in his hometown free of the biker plague, it had become painfully obvious to Hale that he was no Wyatt Earp.

Hale was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the presence of someone standing in his doorway until they cleared their throat.

Looking up, Hale saw a tall woman, early-to-mid-40's, wearing a conservative and, to his mind, shapeless and unattractive gray suit that did nothing for her slim figure. Her long blond hair was casually styled and framed a reasonably attractive face, which bore very little by way of cosmetic enhancement except for some lipstick. Standing behind her were two equally tall men, dressed in equally bland dark suits.

"Deputy Chief David Hale?"

"That's right." Hale rose to his feet. "How may I help you?" He inquired with a slight smile.

Walking into Hale's office, the woman pulled out her badge. "Agent June Stahl with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, Stockton Division. These are two members of my team, Agent Smith and Agent Wright." When she smiled, Agent Stahl's face became more friendly and personable. Holding out his hand, Hale shook hers. "I was hoping that I would find you alone. May we talk?"

Not waiting for Hale's answer, she looked back at her fellow agents. "One of you can let Samuelson know that we've arrived and made contact and I will bring David up to speed." Flipping back to Hale, Stahl asked, "Is it all right if I call you David?"

"Absolutely. May I can you June?"

"Why not?" Stahl said rhetorically. Before closing the door on the agents, Stahl demanded, "And see if the other one of you can find a decent place for coffee around here. I need a hit." Stahl crossed over to Hale's desk and sat down in one of the chairs opposite his desk. Putting her brief case on her lap, she sighed disdainfully. "I have a feeling that there isn't a Starbucks around for miles."

"And you'd be right." Hale leaned back against the front of his desk and crossed his arms. "Which is why I installed this." Nodding towards the credenza behind him, Stahl saw a small, but expensive single-cup coffee maker. "While it's not Starbucks, I think you'll enjoy it better than a cup of Joe from Nicky's Diner."

"God, you are a life saver. Cream and sugar, please. Thanks."

As Hale prepared the coffee, he looked over his shoulder. "So once again the ATF is on my doorstep. Why did you want to speak to me alone?"

"Because according to Agent J.R. Reinhardt's reports, you're probably the only man in this Department not currently on the Sons of Anarchy's payroll."

In doing her research before coming to Bumblefuck, USA, Stahl had been very thorough. She had been right in judging Hale as an attractive and fit man after reviewing the photo on the jacket of his ATF file, but when he smiled, she got the full load.

_Very handsome, in a Dudley Do-Right kind of way_.

Hale handed her the coffee, which she took with almost indecent haste and took a sip. "Is it all right?" He asked with a smile.

"Like manna from heaven." Stahl replied exaggeratedly as she took another sip.

Hale sat down in his chair. "I am certainly glad to hear that I have that reputation. I've worked hard for it. I was very sorry when Agent Reinhardt's efforts to net SAMCRO failed. To be quite honest, I'm surprised that anyone from ATF would show up now. It's been over four years since the last investigation. I had all but given up hope that anyone was interested in putting these bastards away."

Stahl leaned back in her chair. "It would definitely seem that way. To put it mildly, Agent Reinhardt totally fucked up this case. He dropped the ball in a major way and had he done his job properly, SAMCRO would have been no more than an ugly blotch in your town's history by now." Stahl explained with scorn. Taking another healthy sip of coffee, she continued. "Since his retirement, a number of agents have worked on putting a case together, but have had little or no success in developing any leads to break the Sons. These bikers have become very savvy in their operations and function almost like a corporation. With the exception of a few members currently incarcerated, SAMCRO has pretty much managed to keep themselves clean and off the radar. The case Reinhardt was handed on a silver platter was solid, but unfortunately, after over four years, it just went cold. Until recently, that is. There has been some new activity and we believe we are in a position to finally breach that white trash fraternity and net the really big fish, the actual source of the Sons' merchandise for more than two decades. _The Real IRA_. That's where you come in, David."

Hale crossed his arms. "How can I help?"

"We need to set up shop in your house. Nothing major, just a couple of offices and some equipment. We will also need to pick your brain, see what knowledge you have of SAMCRO's organization and known associates not currently part of the ATF's database. Anything you have to share could be instrumental in finally putting them away." Stahl replied. "And more importantly, we will need your assistance in running interference with those in your department who have, unfortunately, abandoned their sworn duty to uphold the law by supporting and/or engaging in the Sons' criminal activities."

"I assume you are talking about Chief Wayne Unser."

"Yes." Stahl pulled out some files and started flipping through them. "He's a wily old bastard. Knows how to clean up after himself. While we don't have any documented proof of his active participation in any of the Sons' illegal activities, we do know that he has been complicit in turning a blind eye and letting SAMCRO virtually run the town without any real interference from local law enforcement." Stahl looked at Hale with concern and sympathy. "It must be difficult for you to effectively bring law and order to Charming when your hands are being tied by the one person who should be a mentor and a role model. I am quite impressed that you have been able to withstand such an influence."

Hale nodded grimly. "It's been a rough four years. Quite frankly, it's been downright discouraging."

"Where is Chief Unser, by the way?" Stahl asked, after finishing her cup of coffee with a flourish.

"He's currently out on some personal business. The Chief owns a trucking company, and he uses SAMCRO to protect the merchandise he ships for his clients while on the road."

Stahl's eyes widened. "Doing business with the criminals you're supposed to be working on putting away. How interesting." She drawled.

"Just one of the ways that SAMCRO scratches his back." Hale replied grimly. "If you and your people can do something to help me change the climate in this town, I am more than willing and able to assist you in any way I can."

"Great." Stahl smiled enigmatically. "First, let me bring you up to speed on our new Intel." Getting up from her chair, Stahl spread out a number of photos on Hale's desk.

Pointing to a photo of two men, Stahl explained, "There are a couple of new players on the scene connected to the Real IRA—James Patrick O'Phelan a/k/a Jimmy O, and John Lucas 'Luke' Moran. Moran has replaced this man, Michael Flynn McKeavey." She pointed to another photo. "We know that McKeavey was SAMCRO's primary contact and conduit for transporting the automatic weapons from Ireland to NorCal. About two weeks ago, McKeavey was murdered by men we believe were on the payroll of Brenan Hefner, the Oakland Port Authority official in charge of the docks. He was also murdered a few days ago in what was most likely retaliation for McKeavey's death. We believe that Moran is now SAMCRO'S contact for shipping the guns stateside. It is my plan to try and drive a wedge between the new players in the RIRA and SAMCRO."

Hale grimaced. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"For the moment, that information is classified. The fact is, David," Stahl crossed her arms over her chest. "I really need to be sure which side you are on, and how willing you are to go all the way to bring this case to a right and just conclusion."

"I'm on the side of whomever can get rid of SAMCRO. I want them out of their Clubhouse, out of this town, and in federal lock-up."

"Good. Then the first thing we need to do is to bring her in." Stahl replied and slapped a mug shot of a very young Jolene Morrow on Hale's desk.

* * *

Feeling the soft, warm breeze from the open window rustle her loose curls, Jolene turned away from the blackboard. She almost did a double-take as she saw a classroom full of distracted daydreamers barely concealing the fact that they weren't listening. Jolene couldn't really blame her students for allowing their minds to wander. It was finally the end of the school year and the weather had been increasingly beautiful and mild for the past couple of weeks. This being the last class of the day on a Friday, which was also the last day of school, everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts regarding plans for the summer. She was willing to bet her beloved Mustang that no one had their minds on the prep work they needed to get done before the state-wide exams next week.

_Especially Brandon Spivey_, Jolene thought as she caught a glimpse of his young, pimple-marked face gone completely slack. Almost like he was looking right at her, but not really. _That might be my fault_, Jolene glanced down to take a quick look at the figure-hugging pencil skirt she was wearing. Although the skirt was appropriate in length, paired with the fitted white sleeveless blouse and mile-high heels she was wearing, she didn't even want to imagine what he was thinking.

If Jolene was honest with herself, she too was pretty excited by the break she would be getting during state testing. The blur of activities that was her life these past few months—not to mention her old man's pussy-on-demand tendencies—were starting to take a toll on the newlywed. Jolene always seemed so tired lately that she had to keep busy and moving or run the risk of collapsing. With the Dean of the Math Department serving as Proctor during the exams for her classes, Jolene was really looking forward to sleeping most of her two-week break away. The break for state exams would be quickly followed by prep for senior graduation and then summer recess. Jolene was starting to seriously contemplate letting Jax convince her to take the summer off. The two-month break would go a long way in re-energizing her for the new school year come September and would give her time to enjoy being a full-time old lady and plan a family vacation.

Finding that she too was guilty of a little daydreaming, Jolene refocused her mind on getting through her last lesson plan of the school year. While the student body had come to expect that most teachers would relax their curriculum during the last week of classes, Jolene tended to intensify the workload to keep her students firmly focused in order to better prepare them for their final exams.

Determined to get the attention of the classroom filled mainly with ninth and tenth graders, Jolene walked over to the front of her desk and leaned against it. Although small, Jolene Teller made an imposing little figure, especially when she crossed her arms over her chest, quickly drawing the attention of the less distracted.

"Everyone, please put away your books." Jolene said mildly and was met with a tiny smattering of applause as a couple of class clowns high-fived each other in the back. "However, make sure to keep a pencil out because it is time for a quiz on the material we just covered, which will account for, um, let's say 85, nope, 95% of your final grade."

The ripple of indignation that quickly spread across the room made Jolene bite the insides of her cheeks in order to keep her game face on.

Chuck Bedford, one of the top jocks at Charming Excelsior Prep, and who was apparently still half-asleep, decided to speak up on behalf of the group. "Um, Teach. That's not fair."

"And why not?" Jolene cocked her head to the side, looking genuinely confused.

"Cuz no body was listening." Came a voice from the back that could only belong to Arnie Mitchell, the leader of the pack of the three class clowns she was blessed with this semester.

"I'm sorry. I understood that to mean that everyone understood the lesson and was ready for a test."

"Nope, that's not what it means." Arnie's cohort, Tim Oliver piped up.

"Okay, now I'm confused. Either it means you all know the material that will very likely be a large portion of next week's test or the majority of you _want_ to repeat Algebra II with me next year."

"I think it's more of the latter, Mrs. T." Melissa Gilroy spoke up with a teasing smile. "I know most of the boys would not mind having you for a teacher again."

As laughter and snickers ran through the crowd, Chuck spoke up again deadly serious. "If I do have to repeat the class, you're sure I'll get you as a teacher again too, right?"

"Only if I'm S-O-L." Jolene replied good-naturedly as the class laughed boisterously. After everyone settled down, Jolene continued. "Okay, back to our lesson, please." She pointed to the blackboard. "We know this is a quadratic equation, but there are three forms of these types of functions. Can someone name all three?" She asked and several hands shot up into the air, mostly in the front. Jolene smiled. "I appreciate the effort to participate," She addressed the four students in the front row, "But let me re-phrase my question. Does anyone not currently a member of the Math Team know what the three forms of quadratic equations are?"

Looking through the windowed door, Agent Stahl was mildly impressed. She watched as Jolene took her class through the rest of her lesson plan and engaged the students with wit and her approval, even getting the little pervert to work a problem out on the blackboard. Stahl had known that Jolene Morrow was a math teacher, but hadn't really believed she was any good. Stahl chuckled as she realized she had let herself fall into the trap of close-mindedness. The term white trash was thrown around so frequently with regards to the outlaw biker gang that she had forgotten that when dealing with SAMCRO and/or their progeny, she was dealing with brains as well as bullets.

Nodding at the school principal, Stahl said, "You can get her for me now."

* * *

Jolene was wrapping up the class. With only a few minutes to spare before the bell rang, signaling for the stampede of students eager to celebrate their release from the tyranny of school to begin, Jolene was about to give them the final chapters they needed to review for next week's exam when the classroom door opened.

Principal Brian Petersen, the bane of her existence since her own school days at Excelsior Prep, walked in. Always overly formal, Principal Petersen said, "Mrs. Teller, can you please step outside?"

Trying to be polite, Jolene replied, "Can it wait one moment, please. I'm just about to dismiss my class." Turning back to her students, Jolene felt herself shiver with pure hatred and disgust as she heard the familiar voice of the person she despised more than her POS egg donor.

"I'm afraid that it can't." Agent Stahl walked into classroom. "Hello, Jolene. It's _so_ good to see you again."

Jolene slowly turned to face Agent Stahl, still holding the pointer that she had been using to direct her students' attention on the blackboard. Forcing herself to put the pointer down before she shoved it into Stahl's eye, Jolene had to keep reminding herself that she could never make a clean getaway as there were too many witnesses.

Stahl smiled widely. "You know, you _really_ should have paid those traffic tickets. Let's take a little ride downtown, shall we?"

* * *

Mild-mannered he may be, but there was one thing Chief Wayne Unser wasn't. He was not a forgiving man. Nor was he a fucking pushover. As Chief of Charming PD, nothing was to happen in his station house without his knowledge or consent. So when, for the second time in five years, a federal watch was set up in his house, without him knowing jack shit about it, Unser was more than just mildly pissed.

That righteous anger, however, exploded into rage, when the Agent-in-Charge tried to walk by him just as pretty as you please, and completely ignoring him, with a handcuffed Jolene Teller in tow.

Stepping directly into her path, Unser brought Stahl to a dead stop. "Do you mind telling me who the hell you are and why you have that woman in custody?" Unser practically growled.

"Actually, _Wayne_, I think I do mind." Nodding at Hale, who was standing grim-faced at the end of the corridor. "Why don't you talk to your Deputy Chief? I'm sure he can fill in the gaps while Ms. Morrow and I enjoy a little chat."

As Stahl marched Jolene over to an interrogation room, Jolene turned her head to Unser. "Please call Jax." She said quietly. Scowling as her gaze landed on Hale's face, Jolene let herself get dragged into the room. As the door closed behind her, Hale felt a ball the size of a grapefruit form in his stomach.

_What the hell have I gotten her into?_ Before Hale could figure it out, an angry Chief bore down on him.

"Boy, are you shitting in my pond again?" Unser demanded.

* * *

The interview room hadn't changed much since the last time she had been there. It was still small and cramped, and a little too cold for Jolene's taste. Sitting on the uncomfortable metal folding chair with her legs crossed, Jolene sat calm and collected as if it was every day she was pulled out of her classroom in front of her students by federal agents.

Stahl sat down across from her with a stack of files, which she placed on the table between them.

"So Jolene, long time, no see. When I heard that you had come back to Charming, I have to say I was quite surprised. Having escaped the ass end of NorCal, I thought you would have stayed in the bright lights of Seattle," Stahl smiled viciously. "But I guess making it on your own without your daddy and your old man supporting you was getting just a tad too hard for the SAMCRO Princess, huh?"

Jolene licked lips suddenly gone dry as she prepared to launch a verbal attack, when the door burst open to reveal an angry Unser, with Agent Smith following closely behind.

As Stahl eyed her agent coldly, Smith replied. "I'm sorry, but he got passed me."

"Don't be sorry, Agent." Unser snarled. "This is _my_ station house, and I don't get restricted from _any_ area." Unser's eyes bore a hole into Stahl. "Especially by a federal agent that doesn't have the courtesy to introduce herself, her team or explain their presence in said house directly to the Chief in charge, which is me. Now, maybe you'd like to rectify that situation by explaining yourself."

Stahl stood abruptly and walked out of the interrogation room, with Unser following her. As she turned around and Unser looked into her stormy blue eyes, Unser made a quick assessment.

_This dame ain't playing with a full deck_.

Stahl extended a hand to Unser. "I'm Agent June Stahl and my team will be in Charming for the unforeseeable future regarding several ongoing investigations for the ATF. You can contact Agent Rick Samuelson, the head of our Stockton Office. This investigation has been authorized by the federal government and the San Joaquin Sheriff's Office has agreed to cooperate fully and to provide whatever assistance I need, and as you know, Charming PD falls under their jurisdiction. So I expect to receive that cooperation from you Chief, and from everyone within _your house_." Stahl smiled coldly. "Is that enough of an explanation for you?"

"It doesn't explain why I'm only hearing about it now." Unser shot back.

"Well, I arrived in Charming yesterday afternoon and I understood from Deputy Chief Hale that _you_ were otherwise engaged handling business not related to law enforcement. Something about a trucking company you own. Unfortunately, the federal government waits for no one. I needed to get moving on this case and took the appropriate measures. I'm sorry," Stahl sneered, "If that doesn't meet with your approval."

_I don't hit women, but in the case of this blonde bitch, I could definitely make an exception._

"I'll tell you what doesn't meet with my approval. The fact that you have a citizen of Charming in an interrogation room with no attorney present and, from what I understand, no reason to hold her in custody."

"That's where you're wrong, _Wayne_." Stahl replied snarkily. "Ms. Morrow was picked up on a bench warrant issued for failing to appear before the court in reference to some matters not currently resolved. I'm simply questioning her about those and some other relevant items on my agenda in connection to my investigation."

"Jolene _Teller_ is entitled to have counsel present and until such counsel is available, I will be sitting in on the interview." Unser said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "After all, I'm sure that your boss wouldn't want it known that an agent under his command has violated an innocent citizen's civil rights, now would he?"

"Well, well, well, Wayne. I had heard Clay Morrow had you on a short leash." Stahl smiled sardonically. "Fine. Sit in if you like." Stahl turned back and headed to the interrogation room. "Just be aware that it's going to be a long night."

* * *

Officer Candy Eglee pulled into the T-M lot. She would have preferred to make a call to Jax Teller instead, but Chief Unser thought it would be better if she dropped the news in person.

_Yeah, better for him, maybe_.

Parking her squad car in front of the garage, Eglee got out and walked over to one of the bays when she saw Opie sitting on the picnic table. Changing directions, Eglee brought her hand up to push a trailing lock of her straight blond hair behind her ear.

Opie nodded pleasantly at the police officer. With her father currently dying from a long and protracted battle with prostate cancer, Eglee had been on board the SAMCRO payroll for several years. While she did not have the same relationship with the Club as Unser, she had proved to be an asset to the Club, but she wasn't in the habit of dropping by the lot.

"Hey Candy, how's your father?" Opie asked.

"He's holding his own, considering. Thanks for asking." Eglee smiled pleasantly. "Listen, Ope, I need to find Jax. Is he around?"

"Yeah, he's in the Clubhouse." Opie hopped off of the picnic table.

"I need to talk to Jax and get back to the station house before Hale notices that I left." Eglee replied as they headed in the direction of the Clubhouse.

"Is there trouble?"

Eglee nodded grimly. "You could say that."

* * *

Jolene rubbed her forehead as she sat down for the fifth time in the cold interrogation room. Over last fifteen hours Stahl had interrogated her on and off regarding the events surrounding her shooting four years ago. Jolene repeated, word for word, the statement she had initially given the Chief and Hale each and every time Stahl went after her. Subsisting on nothing but bad coffee, bottled water, and a stale cheese sandwich, Jolene doggedly held her own against Stahl.

In fact, Jolene had yet to break a sweat because she had no real worries for herself. It was only her old man, her son, and the Club that was her main concern. Jolene could endure whatever this bitch had to dish out for the sake of her loved ones. She had certainly proven that to herself before.

So when Agent Stahl pulled her into the interrogation room again for another session—this time while Chief Unser was taking a much needed nap—Jolene knew that Stahl was about to pull off the kid gloves. Jolene smiled to herself. She had no problem with that because, this time, she knew the monster she was dealing with and had come prepared to do battle.

"Well, isn't this nice." Stahl said conversationally as she sat across from Jolene, her arm casually draped on the back of her chair and her legs crossed. "We really haven't had an opportunity for a little girl talk with the Chief around."

Jolene took a small sip of her bottled water. "In order for us to have a little 'girl-talk', we would both have to qualify as females, no?" Raising her bottle to her lips, Jolene smiled. "I'm afraid that leaves you out, honey."

Stahl sat up and leaned an elbow on the table. "And _you_ get to determine who qualifies?"

"No, but I do possess all the soft and squishy bits my old man seems to love." Jolene replied. "You, on the other hand, are straight as a board and thin as a rail. My advice to you, sweetheart: stop trying to grow a penis and enjoy being a woman. Take it from me, _it's a lot of fun_, especially if you have a husband like mine." Jolene noticed Stahl openly appraising her green diamond ring and matching wedding band that sparkled brightly in the florescent lighting of the small room. "My old man sure has wonderful taste, don't you agree?"

Looking Jolene in the eyes, Stahl smiled as she bit her lip. "He sure does. His taste in jewelry isn't bad either." Relishing the opportunity to unnerve the MC Princess, she continued. "I never did get an invitation to the wedding. What about your mother? Did she make it?"

Warily, Jolene looked at Stahl, never breaking eye contact. "Absolutely. Gemma was there."

"No," Stahl interrupted, slightly shaking her head. "Not that one."

Jolene gave Stahl a sideways smile. "Oh, by 'mother' you actually meant 'egg donor.' No, I'm afraid she wasn't on the guest list."

"Really?" Stahl drawled. "Why that's a shame. You don't keep in touch, know how she's doing?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't." Raising her left hand, Jolene looked at her dainty gold watch to check the time. "See, she's not even a blip on my radar, but if you would force me to guess, I'd say that she's probably drunk, high, or both after having had inappropriate sex with inappropriate men for money. You know, just a regular Saturday morning."

Agent Stahl contemplated Jolene's cool under pressure demeanor through narrowed eyes and with a pinched mouth.

_This hellcat's 100% MC. With a father like Clay Morrow, she had not only the club running through her veins, but ice water as well. Too bad females didn't get patched._

Stahl suddenly threw her head back and laughed. Watching the bitch's jugular bounce up and down with glee made Jolene long for a very sharp object to shove into her throat.

"I underestimated you, Jolene," Stahl said, still smiling as she wiped non-existent tears from her eyes. "When we first met, I thought all those years away from Charming would have softened you up a bit, but I guessed wrong."

"You certainly did." Jolene stated, as serious as a heart attack. "You probably thought that I was some inbred, uneducated Podunk, am I right? But I think it's only fair that I warn ya, Agent Stahl. That's not a part of my DNA." Jolene shook her head.

"Really?"

"Really." Jolene said. "As the saying goes, you can take the girl out of the Life but you certainly can't take the Life out of the girl, so do not underestimate me. I am Clay Morrow's daughter through and through."

Stahl raised an eyebrow. "And just what does that mean, Jolene?" She asked.

"It means that I learned from the best, sweetie," Jolene said as if she were catching up with an old girlfriend. "Not only did he teach me how to play pool, but he taught me how to play poker, too. Now, I'm the first to admit that I am a better pool hustler than I am card shark, but I did learn one thing about poker that he swore to me was also true to life. _Everyone_ has a tell."

Stahl laughed, actually enjoying their conversation. This is the most she has ever managed to get Jolene to say during this and their previous "talks".

"Do I have a tell?" Stahl asked with a smile.

"_Everyone_ does."

"What's mine?"

Jolene shook her head as she sat forward in her chair, elbows on the table. "I haven't seen it yet, but I'm willing to bet it's in your eyes."

"Okay, let me know when you see it." Stahl chuckled smugly.

"Oh, you'll know." Jolene replied confidently.

"Well, it warms my heart that you take so much pride in being Clay Morrow's daughter, but I think it's abundantly clear that you get most of your fetching qualities and, _I'm willing to bet_, special talents from your 'egg donor'. I'm sure that your obvious beauty and talents came in very handy, especially during those last six months you were still working in Seattle." Stahl declared.

Stahl's eyes gleamed as she saw Jolene's eyes narrow and her pupils dilate. Opening a file and perusing its contents, Stahl said, "While stripping for a living is certainly gainful employment, somehow I don't think your current Principal would appreciate your putting your 'talents' to use in such a manner. And from what I can see, you were a very talented girl. I spoke to the owner of _The Lollipop Cafe_. While he misses you terribly, he wasn't too thrilled with your recruiting efforts. Apparently, he lost his best dancer when you helped her get her G.E.D. She has since left in order to study accounting at night, while working as an office clerk during the day."

_Wow, that anger management course the judge made me take is really paying off_. Jolene thought as she took another sip of her water.

"While Mick was definitely an asshole of major proportions, the one thing he did do right was run a respectable gentlemen's club." Jolene countered.

Stahl rolled her eyes. "Eh, strip club, gentlemen's club where waitresses serve drinks in revealing lingerie—why split hairs. There's really not much of a difference, especially when the 'waitresses' were required to do a little pole dancing as well. You know, despite this Mick guy being royally pissed off at you, he did say you could work for him again any time. He also said that you were one of his best and I have to agree. You were quite good. You must have had a lot of practice in your father's clubhouse because you were far and away better than all the others. I think I must have caught one of your last shows before you decided to come back to Charming." Stahl smiled. "So what made you decide to go from math teacher to stripper, following in your mother's footsteps?"

_Like you had nothing to do with it_, Jolene thought angrily.

"Now that you mention it, I have you to thank for the fact that I was black-balled and kept from obtaining gainful employment as a teacher, don't I? Thank you for singlehandedly turning me into a woman who would do whatever was necessary, even distasteful, to take care of her sick baby." Jolene said bitterly. "If you had done your homework you would realize that what you are trying so desperately to twist into something ugly was a far cry from the things my egg donor did. She only cared about sex and her next fix. I was never a priority for her. Besides, the Lollipop Café is one of Seattle's classier establishments of its type," Jolene shrugged her shoulders. "And all things considered, not a big deal."

"I have to commend you, Jolene, I really do." Stahl said as Jolene's eyes glittered. "I was so glad to hear that you were able to go back to teaching. But wouldn't it be a real shame if your current School Board were to hear about your youthful indiscretions, and your recent walk on the wild side?" Stahl smiled hugely.

"Under different circumstances, you might have me shaking in my boots, but I do learn from past mistakes. See, both Mr. Petersen and my mentor, a highly regarded member of the San Joaquin School Board and the one responsible for giving me the opportunity to teach again, are fully and completely aware of my _youthful indiscretions_. That leverage you thought you had, doesn't really faze me." Jolene smiled widely as Stahl's lips became thin and pinched at Jolene's revelation. "Besides, when you single-handily save Excelsior Prep's funding for its sports program, you end up becoming something of a town hero. My being a 'waitress' for a few months to make ends meet isn't going to raise any eyebrows."

_Deal with that, bitch_!

Watching through the two-way mirror in the observation room as the two women sat at the metal table across from one another, Unser wondered what the hell was going on. With the sound muted on the speakers and Stahl's two ATF goons on watch, Unser had no clue what was going down. Somehow, though, seeing the soft smile on Jolene Teller's face and the cold and angry look the ATF gash was aiming at her, Unser had a feeling that Clay's daughter was more than holding her own against her adversary.

It took everything for Stahl not to lose her mud in front of the MC whore. She had clearly underestimated her opponent, who had obviously grown another pair to go with the one she had from their first encounter. But she wasn't about to throw in the towel.

"How nice that daddy dearest taught you more than just pool and poker. It seems like you've also learned the art of securing for yourself the right set of friends." Shifting gears, Stahl continued. "It's a shame you won't keep in touch with your—what did you call her—'egg donor' because, I have to say, I really enjoyed talking to her." Stahl aimed a thin smile at her foe. "She certainly seems to have changed."

Jolene cocked her head. "Really? That's a newsflash to me."

Stahl flipped through the file she had sitting open in front of her. "Oh yes. She's been sober now going on eight years and has been since you left Seattle when you were 17. After rehab, Valentina Robles got a cosmetology license and works as a manicurist in a high-end salon. She married an older gentleman who breeds Italian greyhounds. She really turned her life around. Didn't you know?"

"I don't keep unimportant shit like that on my radar." Jolene replied coolly.

"Oh, that's right. If I understand correctly the last time she reached out to you was when you graduated high school, right?"

Jolene looked at the federal agent with narrowed eyes. _I don't know where this bitch is going with this shit, but I have a feeling I'm not going to like it._

Jolene nodded her head. "That's right. I had no interest in seeing her then, and I have no interest in talking about her now."

"I can understand that. Talking about your mother must bring up some very painful memories for you. It must have been very difficult for you, such a young girl suffering such degradation at the hands of her mother's own boyfriend. I was so sorry to hear that you were almost raped. Knowing how much Clay loves you, it must have devastated him as well." Stahl's attempt to look concerned and empathetic failed miserably.

It took Jolene a full five seconds to respond. "Attempted rape, huh?" She laughed softly. "That is certainly an interesting turn of events."

_Oh, shit!_

"Yes, it is, and imagine my surprise when I heard that your alleged attacker," Stahl made a show of looking at her notes. "A Ricardo 'Pretty Ricky' Hernandez went missing shortly after you returned to Charming following the incident. He's been missing for eight years now and has now been presumed dead. Something tells me, though, that you already knew that, isn't that right, Jolene?"

Jolene leaned back in her chair, her body language not revealing at all to her opponent that she was about to shit a brick. "The name sounds familiar. I believe he is—or I guess _was_—now that you tell me he's missing—my mother's pimp. Why this information should be of any interest to you is beyond me." Jolene smiled as she took a sip of water.

"Oh, I find it very interesting. You see, it goes to motive, especially as the events of this situation seem to mirror those concerning the disappearance of Kyle Hobart. I mean, think about it. Both men are presumed to have attempted to do you harm. Hernandez tried to rape you and Hobart—well, let's just say that you and your old man get shot, _you_ almost die, and then Kyle Hobart reaches out to the ATF for protection only to disappear off the face of the earth. Since I understand that the Club is big on family and on protecting its own, it seems to me that maybe the Club had something to do with _both_ Hernandez and Hobart being 'off the grid.' And I think that if I push your mother hard enough—who, by the way since you haven't asked, feels pretty badly about the whole sad business—I'm sure she will be able to provide me with concrete evidence of a conspiracy concerning her missing boyfriend. Actually, I think it was her guilty conscience that led her to explain the details of what happened between you and Pretty Ricky. She truly regrets blaming you for instigating the attack. It's really quite sad."

Stahl casually flipped her hair over her shoulder. "You see, Jolene, I think you've put yourself in a serious situation here. Between your employment at the Lollipop Café and your problems with men, your happy little family life really isn't all that stable, is it? But I think if you were to help me, let me guide you along, as it were, I could really help you. You have to know that SAMCRO will eventually destroy you anyway, but if we can work together, I think that I can help you make a good life for you and your son." Stahl smiled coldly. "And Abel can grow up knowing his mother, instead of bouncing around the foster care system when his father ends up in prison for murder and his mother for helping him cover it up. How does all that sound to you?"

Jolene slowly put the half-empty bottle of water she had been toying with on the table. All she wanted to do was to leap over the table and slam Stahl's head against the floor until there was nothing left but a smear of blood and brain matter.

They stared at each other for a long time before Jolene spoke again. "You know, you and I really aren't that different." Jolene sat back in her chair. "I grew up in a small town, just like you, with dedicated parents and a loving extended family." She said coolly. "Only difference I can see is that I'm not a baby killer, isn't that right, _Claire_?"

Stahl's eyes widened in what could only be classified as shock and panic, quickly turning to sheer hatred. _If there weren't so many goddamned witnesses_, Stahl thought, _I'd shoot the fucking bitch in the head._

"What?" You think you're the only one who does her homework around here? I am a teacher, after all." Jolene laughed. "I get the strange feeling, though, that your Fed buddies wouldn't be as understanding as me if they knew the real deal concerning your 'other life'. As a matter of fact, you prolly wouldn't be sporting that shiny gold ATF badge you just love flashing around so much. After all, the Sheriff in that teeny-weeny town you come from in East Texas never really came to a final determination as to what really happened to your little brother, right?" Jolene saccharine-sweet voice belied the viciousness bleeding from her eyes.

"There's really only one difference between us. See, I paid my debt to society and lost my job because of it. You, on the other hand, got away with murder and, with the help of your foster parents, technically your aunt and uncle, you've somehow managed to keep the past buried . . . just like your little brother. Your bosses at the Bureau have no idea that they have a closet sociopath on the government's payroll and I'm guessing that's how you want it to remain, buried." Jolene once again sat back in her chair, her arms crossed.

Regaining her composure, Stahl threw her head back and laughed, this time, though, it sounded forced. "Wow! That is some story."

"It sure is and if I didn't have the documents to back me up, I would say it's too incredible to be true." Jolene let the smile spread slowly across her face as the look she had been waiting for flashed in Stahl's eyes. "I am not a mean or vindictive person, Agent Stahl. The role you played in almost ruining my career, thereby jeopardizing my son's health, I'm not holding a grudge about that, but I do have to warn you. You trying to hurt my family again with this whole nefarious plot you've concocted based solely on a pack of lies some former junkie whore has fed you, _that_ I do take offense to. So as long as this bullshit about the Club taking out some pathetic pimp and a POS loser becomes a non-issue, your secret is safe with me." Jolene smiled sardonically. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, I could use a shower, and I want to see my family. With all of our cards now on the table, I guess it's safe to say that I'm free to go now, right?"

Not waiting for an answer from a shell-shocked Agent Stahl, Jolene pushed herself up from her chair and headed for the exit. "And in case you were wondering, I _was_ right. Your tell is in your eyes." She smiled. "Crazy, psycho eyes _never_ lie."


	4. Family Ties

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Sons of Anarchy**

**To All My Lurkers (and I say that with much love, too): **

**Yeah, that's right. You know who you are. All y'all undercover sisters who have been reading the Jaxene Saga and only NOW have shown up to the party to review. Well, as my beta always says 'Better late than never,' and she's right! :) I really, really, REALLY appreciate getting your "love hits." It makes my day when my phone goes off and it's a review telling me your thoughts on the latest chapter. **

**As a woman who works for probably the most demanding person in New York City, my hobby of writing SOA fanfiction has helped calm my nerves and keep me out of jail, especially after one of his "episodes". Writing about Jax and Jolene is definitely better than prescription drugs, but it's hearing from you guys that really gives me a lift, so please KEEP THEM LOVE HITS COMING AND I'LL KEEP WRITING! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Keeping vigil with his brothers outside the station house, Jax was in danger of burning a hole in the blacktop of the parking lot as he paced back and forth, chain-smoking. Clay sat on his bike and watched his son-in-law start to work himself into a lather again as sunrise finally burned away the cool dampness of the night and gave way to a beautiful morning. Jax, who was being denied access to his old lady since yesterday afternoon, had spent most of the night on his feet, waiting.

From the moment Officer Eglee had given him the news that Jolene was in the custody of federal agents, Jax had been in a rage. Clay had called Rosen, only to be told that he was on a three-week holiday in the South of France and couldn't be reached. His partner, Ally Lowen, was holding down the fort on another matter for one of Rosen's clients and was unreachable, but had advised that Jolene couldn't be held longer than 24 hours on a bench warrant without being charged. It was best, she insisted, if they just wait it out.

"I can't believe Unser let this bitch set up shop in the station." Clay growled as he lit a cigar for breakfast. The Sons had been taking turns waiting with Jax throughout the night for any word on Jolene's release, but now that it was morning, all of SAMCRO was waiting in the parking lot for Unser to bring them news.

"This has Hale's stink all over it." Opie replied. "He's been trying to get rid of SAMCRO ever since he came back to Charming."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jax contemplated his best friend's assessment of the situation as he continued pacing. He had been thinking along the same lines all night, but had hoped to talk himself out of the frame of mind that possibility put him in. After the beat down he had served on Charming's Deputy Chief, Jax hoped it unlikely that the bastard would go to this length to try and get Jolene away from the Club, especially if it put her in the ATF's crosshairs. Right now, Jax had to believe that because if Hale was indeed responsible, he would be adding cop killer to his multitude of sins.

Tig shook his head. "Hale we can handle. It's this ATF skank that has me worried. With a clubhouse full of ex-cons, why would she pick up Doll Face?"

"To rattle our cage." Bobby replied. "Get under our skin."

"And we can't let that happen." Clay said with strong resolve, aimed mostly at Jax. "We are going to deal with this situation and this bitch, but with cool heads."

Turning to look at Clay, Jax saw the automatic glass doors to the station house open.

"Chief!" He called out to Unser as the older man started coming down the stairs towards the small group of Sons. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Good morning to you, too." He replied sarcastically. "Jolene should be out in a few minutes. She's changing into the clothes Gemma sent over." Turning to Clay, Unser said, "You raised a tough daughter. She really held her own."

"So she faired okay with the AT and F?" Clay asked, his cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Unser chuckled. "Was cool as a cucumber during all of Agent Stahl's interrogations. I wasn't made privy to their last conversation," He explained, looking from Clay to Jax, who was now leaning against his bike with his arms crossed. "But I do know that Stahl ended it abruptly and then trashed the interrogation room after Jolene left."

"What the hell?" Jax said disbelievingly.

"Yeah, crazy bitch had a fit, breaking furniture and shit. She even threw a chair through the window and into the observation room. Almost hit one of her own men." Unser snorted.

Jax almost smiled at the thought of his raven-haired goddess giving back as good as she got. He could recall several times during the course of their relationship that Jolene would gain the upper hand on him during an argument. He could definitely relate with the desire to break furniture and shit when that happened, but just as quickly, she would refocus his pissed off energy into angry sex.

_I'm a lucky bastard!_

"She gave her nothing," Jax stated emphatically. "And probably ripped her a new asshole while she was at it."

"And most likely smiled the whole time she was doing it, too." Clay said proudly. "That's my baby girl!" He howled.

* * *

Hale was waiting for Jolene when she exited the bathroom. Having done her best to freshen up after her overnight stay in Charming PD's lockup, all Jolene wanted was to see her old man, her son, take a long hot shower, and eat some good food. However, despite not having the shower, Jolene still managed to look incredible in the fitted black tee and low-rise jeans that Clay had passed along to her through Unser.

Jolene stopped abruptly as Hale approached her. "What do you want?" Her stormy green eyes met Hale's and he had to look away when he saw not only Jolene's anger, but her disappointment in him reflected in them.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright." He replied.

"Obviously, I don't need you to make sure I'm okay. My old man can handle that business for me just fine." At Hale's hurt look, Jolene's anger exploded. "What is it that you want from me, David?"

"I want to be your friend." Hale said grimly.

Jolene shook her head, her disdain for Hale at this moment made obvious by the grimace on her face. "Friends don't let this kind of shit hit their friends sideways." She retorted as she put on her messenger bag cross body. "Did you know that this bitch was going to pull me in? And that she was going to do it in front of my students with me in handcuffs?" Jolene challenged.

She could hear Hale's jaw click it was clenched so tight. "Yes, but—"

"No buts, David. That woman can cause more problems and heartache than even I can relate." Jolene said bitterly. "I know that you live by the word of the law, but I'm going to do you one better than you did me. I have to warn you that when it comes to Stahl, you need to tread very carefully and reconsider just how far you are willing to go to gain her as a 'new friend'."

As Jolene walked towards the exit of the station house, David contemplated Jolene's accusations against Stahl and wondered just how much worse the situation could get.

He would soon find out.

* * *

"Hey, I wasn't expecting the Calvary!" Jolene smiled as she bounced down the stairs of the station house to a smattering of applause and wolf whistles. Dropping a quick kiss on her father and Uncle Elvis, Jolene proceeded to bounce right into her husband's arms. "Does this mean I get to choose which bike I ride home on?" She teased as Jax held her in a death grip against his body.

"No, you don't." Jax growled from behind his sunglasses as he pulled away from her.

"Aww, I would've picked you, baby." She rubbed her nose against his before dropping a kiss on his lips, forcing Jax to smile for the first time in the last 18 hours.

Pulling away from Jax, Jolene asked anxiously, "How's my baby boy? Has he missed me?"

Jax shook his head solemnly. "I'm sorry to break it to you, darlin', but I don't think Little Man even noticed you weren't home."

"He didn't miss me at all?" Jolene pouted.

Smiling, Jax pulled her into his arms again and squeezed her ass. "I'm teasing. I have to warn you, though. The last time I checked on him last night, he was so busy being spoiled rotten by G-Ma and Neeta that I don't think he's had time to miss either one of us too much." Jax replied. "I'm sure he's up to his elbows in Miss Neeta's pancakes by now, too."

"And where were you last night?" Jolene asked with a furrowed brow and a slight smile.

"I've been here all night, darlin'." Jax replied, surprised that she would even ask, as well as by the sudden neck hug Jolene was nearly choking him with.

_I knew it! God, I love this man_.

Jax closed his eyes and rubbed her back as he inhaled her familiar sweet and flowery scent.

"You were here the whole time?" Jolene cooed as she held his face and peppered him with kisses.

Jax smiled. "I'll never leave you, Jo. Never."

As much as Jax loved his brothers, they started to intrude on their reunion before he could swap some serious spit with his old lady.

"How'd they treat ya, luvvie?" Chibs asked.

"Just like the good ol' days," Jolene replied, taking her helmet from Jax and strapping it on. "But the food's shit and I'm starving."

"What kind of shit is that, Chief?" Clay called out to Unser. "You lock up my kid overnight and then you don't feed her?"

"What can I say? She's not a big fan of cheese sandwiches." Unser replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Cheap ol' coot!" Tig called out. "Couldn't you buy her a burger? Jax would've paid you back."

"Leave him alone." Jolene said, as Jax climbed onto his bike. "He pulled an all-niter with me. Refused to leave me alone with that ATF skank."

"Good man, Chief," Clay gave Unser a thumbs up. "I owe ya one."

"Just one?" Unser kidded.

"Now that you're here, Jo," Opie started. "Maybe someone can fill us in on why the Feds picked you up."

"No one told you?" Jolene rolled her eyes in disbelief.

"Eglee mentioned something about an outstanding bench warrant," Jax replied. "For unpaid traffic tickets."

Jolene shook her head. "That's bullshit." She climbed onto the bike after Jax and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Of course it is." Clay agreed. Turning to address Unser, he said, "Why would the Feds execute a bench warrant for traffic tickets? I didn't know that kind of shit was in the ATF's jurisdiction."

"Actually, Clay, it was a little more serious than some traffic tickets." Unser started explaining. "Seems like your little girl here had an altercation with a State Trooper over some moving violations in Washington about a year ago. It appeared that she had failed to show up for the hearing and a bench warrant was issued. ATF picked up on it 'cause there gun was involved."

Jax nearly ripped the sunglasses off his face as he turned to confront his old lady. "What the fuck, darlin'? You're smarter than that. And how come I'm only hearing about this shit now?"

"Hold on, Jax. Before you get all twisted, it was either pay the fines for the moving violations or show up for the hearing." Jolene started. "I paid the fines, which the Chief was able to prove right away yesterday before the courts closed. As for that so-called altercation, that was just me 'allegedly' calling the Trooper a douche bag, so the judge tossed it. And the gun was legal and licensed, making it moot. The bench warrant was issued in error." She explained.

"She's right." Unser agreed. "Between us, Stahl knew that the warrant was bogus. It took me one phone call to figure that out. Stahl just needed an excuse to haul Jolene in and question her about the shooting four years ago with no interference from the Club."

"Whatcha tell 'em, Kit?" Bobby asked.

"Everything I know," Jolene shrugged her shoulders, sticking to the same story she has repeated over and over. "Which isn't much. I never saw a face and didn't even know I'd been shot until I woke up in the hospital." She hated talking about the shooting in front of Jax. Jolene felt him squeeze her hand reassuringly, so she hugged him tighter. "Get me outta here, baby." She purred into his ear.

With his jaw clenched and his eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses, Jax started his bike. "We done, Chief?" He called out to Unser over the roar of the motor.

"We're done." Unser responded, knowing he really didn't a have say in the matter. Without another word, Jax threw his bike into gear and tore out of the parking lot with Jolene in tow.

"He is pissed." Juice said as they all watched Jax leave. "If it's the Club Stahl's after, targeting Jax's old lady was a big mistake."

"That ATF bitch is definitely poking the wrong bear." Opie agreed, settling onto his bike.

"Let her." Clay said as he walked over to his bike. "That gash will find out soon enough that messing with the VP's honey pot is a bad career move."

* * *

Jax rode down the street leading to the Morrow house and pulled into their driveway. Jolene was exhausted and it showed. Jax watched her as she removed her helmet and hung it from the handlebars.

"You okay, darlin'?" He asked, pulling off his gloves and shoving them into the pockets of his cut.

Jolene nodded. "Nothing a hot shower and some breakfast won't fix." She smiled. "A proper greeting from my old man would work wonders, too, Grumpy."

"I'm only grumpy 'cause I missed you." Jax said as he pulled her towards him. "You sure you're up for a proper greeting 'cause that could take hours." He flashed her a wicked smile.

Jolene giggled, her arms casually draped over his shoulders. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Teller." She leaned in for a kiss and Jax quickly took control, his hand on her breast as his tongue danced against hers. "I missed you, too." She said as she pulled away and ran her thumb over his lips. Jolene looked down and smiled as Jax was still kneading her breast through her shirt, in spite of the fact that the tree-lined neighborhood was buzzing with people going about their Saturday morning business, such as mowing their lawns. "Let's go get Abel before you get me arrested for doing something indecent in public."

* * *

"Mommy!" Abel scrambled down from the chair he was occupying to run into Jolene's outstretched arms.

"Hey, baby boy!" Jolene wrapped her arms around her son, lifting him off the ground, and peppered his little face with kisses. "Did you miss me?"

"Uh huh!" Abel nodded his head emphatically. "And Daddy too, but me and Papa and Grandma had a good time. We stayed up late and watched movies."

"Yeah," Clay replied, overhearing his daughter's homecoming celebration as he walked into the dining room, having followed the couple back to his house. "My grandson has a big thing for dancing penguins." He said as he rolled his eyes.

Gemma walked over and wrapped her arms around both Jolene and her grandson. "How did you make out with that scum—ATF witch?" Gemma quickly modified her speech in deference to her grandson.

Jolene sat down in her son's seat. "I did okay. She was a real piece of work, but I held my own."

"Would you expect anything less from my old lady?" Jax replied with pride.

"Not really." Gemma was battling her own concern for Jolene versus her desire to box someone's ears for keeping her out of the loop. She hadn't heard about Jolene's arrest until _after_ returning from grocery shopping in Lodi for tomorrow's family dinner.

"I'm exhausted." Jolene said as she smiled down at her baby, who was playing with her soft hair, trying to hold a strand between his nose and curled lip like a mustache. Suddenly, Abel looked up at his mother with wide, surprised eyes as her tummy growled rather loudly.

"Mommy!" He giggled. "I think your tummy's trying to tell you something."

"Yeah," Jolene agreed. "It's telling me I smell home fries." She stood up and passed her son to his old man and headed towards the kitchen to see what goodies Neeta still had left. She found Neeta standing at the kitchen counter pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee, a large square of her freshly homemade coffee cake sitting on a plate to her right. The no-nonsense woman didn't even turn her head when she spoke.

"I thought I heard trouble in the air. Glad to know I still got my good hearing."

"Trouble?" Jolene wise-cracked. "What trouble? I'm the easiest-going, mild-tempered person I know."

"Hmph. I didn't know that one night in a jail cell could change a person so drastically as that. Nine years, maybe, but not one night." Neeta snarked as she thought about her own hard-headed self. She grabbed a mug and poured Jolene a large shot of coffee. As she turned to hand Jolene the mug, Neeta raised her eyebrows.

_The child is as pale as a ghost_, she thought. _Hmm,_ _I wonder . . ._

"Why don't you sit down, honey? You don't look like you got much rest in Unser's cell. You want something to eat? I got some more bacon here. What about a couple of eggs?"

Jolene sat down as she sipped on the hot steaming coffee. "Sounds great, thanks. If you don't mind, I could use a slice of that cake to go with my coffee while I wait." She smiled cheekily at Neeta as she quirked an eyebrow at the young woman, but cut a big piece and put it in front of Jolene anyway.

Walking over to the refrigerator, Neeta grabbed a couple of eggs and quickly started to whip them up, adding fresh herbs, milk, and cheese. Turning around to face Jolene, she was surprised to see that the woman had practically inhaled the coffeecake. "Girl, you better watch out. Remember your mother's old adage—'Nobody likes a fat old lady'."

"Hey, don't you worry about me, Neeta. I need the calories to burn if I want to keep up with my old man." Jolene wriggled her eyebrows lecherously.

"Yeah, I guess I can't say I 'm surprised about that. Y'all still in the honeymoon phase, huh?" Neeta said as she poured the eggs into a sizzling pan.

"You betcha. I have to admit, thought, after last night, I feel like I've come crashing down from my cloud nine. My overnight stay at Hotel Lock-Up has kind of taken a little of the shine off." Jolene sighed.

Neeta placed the plate of eggs and bacon on the kitchen table and sat down across from Jolene and watched her dig in. "Child, there will always be some bump on the road looking to derail your journey through life. The life you and Jackson have chosen is not an easy one, so you do what you can to get through the difficult times. Love your baby, love your old man, deal with the trouble and move on. I can see the love you two share written all over your faces. That boy was a mess last night, by the way. I have no doubt that you can get past any obstacles thrown your way. As long as you're honest and true with one another, you'll be okay."

Jolene had stopped eating to watch Neeta as she spoke. The woman she had grown to love like family over the years had never steered her wrong. Jolene made a mental note to remember these sage words of encouragement as she lovingly patted her friend's hand, not realizing the impact they would have on her life in the very near future.

* * *

_This is what I get for not closing the fuckin' door_, thought the SAMCRO VP as he tried in vain to head off the direction of the conversation, but to no avail.

"Papa, do you wrestle?"

Clay looked down at his grandson. "You mean arm wrestle?" Clay put down his knife and fork and flexed the muscles in his still impressive biceps and then flexed his hands as those gathered around the Morrow's dining room table looked on smiling. "I used to, but I haven't in a long time. Why? You want to take your grandpa on?"

It was one of Gemma's special Sunday afternoon dinners at the Morrow family home with all of the brothers who sat at the Redwood table in attendance, along with their family members. Clay had been digging in with gusto into one of the steaks he had grilled to perfection that Gemma had gotten from the German in Lodi when his grandson posed the question.

But apparently Abel didn't have arm wrestling in mind.

"No, I mean with Grandma." The little boy replied as he reached for the hot dog on his plate.

Jax's head shot up at that statement, but unfortunately for Jolene, she was just a little bit slow on the uptake and far too busy scarfing down her steak to anticipate just where the conversation was headed.

"Uh, Clay, could you pass me the broccoli?" Jax tried to steer the conversation away. It didn't work.

Gemma, who had just passed the bowl of potatoes to Bobby said, "Baby, why would I arm wrestle with Papa?"

Abel, who was now getting a little tired of the questions, sighed. Like most children, he was incurably inquisitive and, as of late, prefaced most of his statements with the word "why." He was accustomed to asking questions or making observations and quickly getting the knowledge he was after, but right now, everybody kept asking _him _questions.

"Because you and Papa sleep in the same bed, like Mommy and Daddy do and they play wrestling all the time, so I wanna know if you do it too."

Jolene suddenly lost her appetite as the full impact of what Abel was saying finally penetrated and the room exploded in full blown laughter.

Bobby nearly choking on his steak gasped. "Oh yeah, your Papa and Grandma certainly do wrestle!"

Tig snarked, "Yup, just like your momma and daddy. And that's a good thing. That way, Abel, you'll get another brother or sister." The whole table roared, the loudest and the hardiest being Clay.

Abel bounced in his seat as he looked at his mother. "Mommy, you can get me a brother and sister by wrestling? When are they gonna get here?"

"Real soon, if your daddy has anything to do about it," Piney barked and the laughter continued.

_Ain't that the truth_, Jolene thought red-faced as she looked at her slightly smug old man.

* * *

"Daddy?"

Jax, who was sitting on the patio sofa with Clay and Bobby drinking a beer, smiled at his son. "What's up, Little Man?"

Standing by his father's side, Abel's green eyes were shining into Jax's blue ones. "We need to go to the garage."

Jax's eyebrows rose at the urgency in his boy's voice. "What for?"

"I gots to show you something. Come on." Abel took his hand and tugged on it for emphasis.

"Oh, damn. I think I know what's this is about." Clay replied, grinning.

Jax looked at his father-in-law and then his son, who was smiling angelically at him. "You wanna give your brother a heads up?" He inquired of Clay.

"Nah, this is some father/son bonding shit you got to deal with."

"You're just gonna send him in blind?" Bobby asked, his ample belly jiggling with laughter. "That ain't right, brother."

"Yeah, but I guess you didn't get enough of a kick busting my balls earlier, huh?" Jax shot back.

"Hey, consider it payback for all of the crap _you_ and _your_ old lady put me and your mother through back in the day." The SAMCRO President snarked. "You think this is rough? Just wait and see if you ever have a daughter. Payback is a bitch and her name is Karma."

Rolling his eyes, Jax rose from his seat and found himself being pulled by his son towards the garage, not realizing that his old lady had come out of the greenhouse and was watching them.

* * *

The Morrow's three-car garage was huge. Having room for both Gemma's Cadillac and her Escalade, the third bay was set aside for Clay's bike, but he made better use of it by turning it into his work shop.

Abel steadily marched his way through the garage, past his grandmother's cars and to his grandfather's shop. As Jax entered into the work area behind his son, Abel let go his hand and made a beeline for the darkened far corner.

_Oh, damn_, thought Jax, almost in awe.

Standing in front of a large object covered with a gray tarp. Abel smiled widely.

"Daddy, can I have it?"

Stalling for time, Jax squatted down beside his son. "Have what, Little Man?"

Abel reached out and flipped up part of the tarp to reveal the front end of an old motorcycle. "This bike. I want it for my birthday. Please?" Abel wheedled.

Jax tried to hide his smile as he looked at his son's huge green eyes sparkling with excitement. "Abel, you already have a bike." He said, referring to the silver and blue power cycle that his grandfather had given him.

"Yeah, but that's a little bike. I want a big REAL one." Abel put his tiny hands on his denim-clad hips. "Me and Papa was working on his bike in the garage and I sawed it and he told me all about it."

"He did, huh?" Jax thought about the wily old biker. _I'm going to get him for this._ "And what did he tell you?"

"Papa said that this is Mommy's bike."

Jax smiled to himself as he threw the tarp back and looked at the bike. Wrapping his arm around his son, Jax nodded. "That's right. Your mother bought this bike a very long time ago. It's a 1957 Harley-Davidson Sportster. Your other grandpa, my father, had one just like it when he was sixteen."

"Papa said that you was fixing it, but then you didn't finish it. Why didn't you?" Abel inquired.

"I meant to, but a lot of things got in the way." Jax hedged.

Jax had worked on the Sportster with Jolene up until he had ran off to Reno like a little bitch after their incident at the streams. When he finally came to his senses and returned to Charming—and her arms—the last thing Jax had time to think about was finishing the bike. Instead, he had spent the time over the next few years while Jolene was in college getting to really know his old lady.

After Jolene left Charming and fell off the grid, Jax had managed to get all of the parts that he had needed to finally finish the bike, but found that working on the Sportster evoked too many painful memories. He couldn't stand seeing it in the garage of their old home anymore, so he had asked Gemma if he could store it in their garage. The truth was, he had forgotten that it still was in storage at the Morrow home.

"_Well_, I think that you should fix it and _I_ should get it for my birthday."

"Son, it's your mother's bike. Why don't you ask her?" Jax suggested, sensing that Clay was setting him up for a major ass-kicking from his old lady.

"'Cause I know Mommy will say no, but you won't."

"Oh really, huh?"

Abel nodded his head. "Me and Papa worked it out."

_Yep. One major ass-kicking coming right up. Thanks a lot, Clay!_

"Abel, it's still your mother's bike, so she's the one that's has to be okay with it. Besides that, it's going to be a long time before you will be old enough or big enough to ride it, but I will make you a deal.

Abel narrowed his eyes in imitation of his mother. "What?"

"If Mommy agrees, when you turn fifteen, we'll finish restoring the bike together and when you're old enough to ride, you can have it then."

Abel thought about this for a good long while and then replied with a counter-offer. "I thinks we should work on it now."

Rolling his eyes, Jax finally caved in. "Yeah, I guess we can do a little something with it."

Abel wrapped his small arms around his father's neck. "I love you so much, Daddy."

Jax's eyes were moist as he replied, "I love you so much more."

As he hugged and squeezed his son close to him, a silent and tearful Jolene watched the two loves of her life from the opposite end of the garage. Seeing the old bike again had brought back many wonderful memories and Jolene knew beyond a shadow of a doubt why Jax had not finished restoring it. It was the sweetest, most gut-wrenching moment she had seen them share so far.

_But I will have to be dead and buried a hell of a long time before Abel gets his ass on that bike_.


	5. Covert Operations

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**Don't forget the love hits! Enjoy! :)**

* * *

_The bitch is going to pay!_

Stahl couldn't fathom how Jolene had managed to succeed where the federal government had failed in retrieving her true childhood history. Her adopted parents, her mother's sister Darlene and her husband Travis Stahl, had promised that the truth had been buried so deep that it would never come to light. The older and childless couple had always loved and doted on their niece, so much so that when her grief-stricken parents abandoned the young Claire Daniels after her infant brother's death, they had taken her in as their own. Although they lived on a ranch well outside the city limits, theirs was a small town. Afraid that the taint of a little childhood rambunctiousness turned tragic would ruin any chance she had for a normal life, the Stahls had changed her name to June, the name of their own daughter who had died shortly after birth the same year Claire was born.

After that, as far as anyone knew, June Stahl had always been June Stahl.

_Until now_.

How that biker whore had pulled a fucking dead rabbit out of her hat was beyond her. All Stahl knew for sure was that the bitch was going to pay for threatening to out her. The truth was that Stahl knew she was crazy, certifiable even and had known there was something wrong with her since the very beginning. But much like the sociopaths she had studied for her Master's Degree in criminal justice and behavioral science, Stahl had managed to fool those she came into contact with because she could be rational and patient—with just the right touch of cold and calculating reason—when the situation called for it.

During her 17-year career with the ATF, not only had she succeeded in making a name for herself among her colleagues, but she had finally been able to bury her past while looking forward to a great future. Stahl had ambitions that did not include her being a field agent for the rest of her career. With many successful busts under her belt, Stahl knew that netting a big fish was the only way to stand out in a field of other highly competent agents. She needed the Sons of Anarchy in order to achieve her career-making goal of busting up the Real IRA's gun trade in Northern California.

Stahl had no doubt that, one day, she would become the first female Director of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. After all, she had the skill set for the position. She had the brains and the determination, but she was also ruthless and coldhearted. Ruthless and coldhearted enough that if someone had to be sacrificed in order for her dreams to become a reality, then so be it. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Her baby brother Henry and, later on, her foster parents had learned that lesson the hard way. Without any baggage holding her down, Stahl was not going to let the product of a junkie hooker and an ex-con biker derail her career. Jolene Teller had certainly turned out to be something quite unexpected. Until she could figure out a way to permanently deal with the MC whore, it was best to scrap the current plan of leaning heavy on Jax Teller's old lady and instead resuscitate a former lead.

Calling in Agent Estevez, the third member of her team, Stahl smiled evenly as he walked into the small office reserved for her use. "We're going back to Plan A for now. Do you have a problem handling that?"

Estevez looked at his superior. "None whatsoever." He replied.

"Good. Then let's get the ball rolling."

* * *

Wendy was practically purring like a kitten as she drove her burgundy Maxima back to Charming.

Life back in the small town had pretty much settled into a routine of partying and fun. Making sure she had no contact with her former old man and his bitch of a new wife, Wendy had quickly settled back into old habits: hanging out with her croweater friends, shopping, and banging the hell out of her new old man, but some habits died harder than others. Although Wendy had tried to resist the temptation, as soon as Dahlmer heard she was back in town and called, she had almost run out of her $800 Jimmy Choo's in order to be with him.

However, Wendy had to be careful. While Huff had no problem with using booze and weed in order to have a good time, the old coot drew a hard line when it came to harder substances, crank in particular. And if he or any of his brothers ever found out that she was cheating on him, getting caught by her old man doing meth would be the least of her problems. She couldn't run the risk of getting shunned again by the clan of tight knit bikers. She needed Huff in order to have continued access to the Club. If she somehow managed to get herself run out of town, Wendy's current situation was only bound to get a whole lot worse.

After spending most of the afternoon getting banged good and proper by the much younger and fitter Dahlmer while enjoying an incredible high, Wendy was in a happy and hyper-energized mood. She was so preoccupied by how good she felt and how everything was so right with her world that Wendy was startled into almost causing an accident when two late model sedans shot out of nowhere, moved to quickly box her in, and forced her off the I-22.

_Oh fuck_!

Wendy had heard rumors from the other croweaters that the ATF had set up shop in Charming, so she had a pretty good idea what was happening and why. Wendy simply didn't want to deal with it, but knew she had no choice. With the ATF making its presence known by hauling in Jax's new old lady, Wendy had had the feeling that her turn was only a matter of time.

Turning off the highway, she was guided for several miles until she and her entourage turned onto a deserted stretch of road and pulled into an abandoned gas station. Wendy tried to remain calm as she saw that a gray sedan was parked in front of the station's burnt out convenience store. The car in front of her pulled to a stop, and a nondescript man disembarked, wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses and a plain dark suit. Approaching her vehicle, he gestured for her to get out. Grabbing her by the arm to lead her towards the occupant in the gray sedan, Wendy yanked her arm away.

"I can walk by myself, asshole." She contested hotly.

Making a rude one-finger gesture at the man, Wendy stomped over to the car in a pair of black Prada boots and skin tight leather pants, and angrily yelled at the occupant who was currently in the process of stepping out of the car.

"You know, I really don't need this secret agent bullshit right now, but more importantly, what I really don't need is your goons trying to drive me off the goddamned road! I could've been killed! All you needed to do was pick up the phone and call me! There was no need to roll up on my ass on the fucking highway!"

Agent Stahl slammed the car door behind her. Looking at Wendy's dilated pupils, she rolled her eyes.

_Godforsaken bitch is already tweaking and it's not even happy hour yet._

Not even bothering to make eye contact with Agents Estevez and Smith, Stahl said, "Head back to the station house now. I'll meet you there." Stahl waited for the the two sedans to pull off before turning her attention back to Wendy. Without warning, the Agent backhanded Wendy across the face, causing her to stumble on her high-heeled feet.

"Bitch, you are in no position to make demands. I suggest you remember who's in charge here." Stahl snarled.

Holding her cheek, Wendy trembled as she looked into the eyes of the one who had her by the short and curlies. Although dealing with the crazy gash had been Wendy's cross to bear for a while now, she would sometimes lose her shit, especially while high, with Stahl quickly putting her back in her place and reminding her just how much was at stake.

"All right. I'm sorry." Wendy mumbled.

Stahl leaned against her car and crossed her arms. "That's better. You know, I wouldn't have to drag your ass out here if I was getting some Intel on the regular, dear."

Wendy rubbed her face wearily. "I told you I've been having a hard time ever since Jax ran my ass out of Charming. It's a miracle that I was able to get back in at all with the Club."

"Well, I must certainly commend you on putting your limited skill set to good use and making that happen, sweetheart. I see by the new ink you're sporting that you are the property of one Huff Kagen. Two VP's. That's impressive." Stahl reached out and softly stroked the cheek that she had only moments before belted. "While I don't know much about the secret world of bikers, I do know that being the old lady to the Tucson charter's Vice President puts you in a good position to finally pay off your debt to society."

Wendy grimaced. It had been 16 months since the shit hit the fan in Oak-Town and it seemed like she would never get clear of it.

Wendy had spent the first month of Jax's time in lock-up trying to convince him to request a conjugal for them as newlyweds, only to be cruelly informed that he wanted a divorce. Wendy had tried to reason with Jax, but usually ended up begging her husband to give their marriage a chance. After two months of pleading her case, Wendy had finally caved and signed the divorce papers. Instead of filing them right away like Jax had insisted, however, she held onto them, hoping that somehow she could save her marriage.

Feeling sorry for herself, Wendy's need for a connection with someone who actually wanted her drove her into the arms of her former crank dealer in Pope, Paul Dahlmer. After weeks of drug-fueled and mind-blowing sex with her new prison clause boyfriend, Wendy was hooked on the man, as well as meth again. She would do anything for Dahlmer and for the first time ever, after enjoying an afternoon's delight, Wendy had let Dahlmer convince her to go to Oakland with him to make a drop. Unknown to his Nord brothers, Dahlmer had a separate deal with a crew running out of Reno to traffic crank into Oak-Town and several other areas in NorCal. It should have been fairly routine and completely under the radar. Instead, Dahlmer had unwittingly walked them into a drug bust of epic proportions while in possession of over two pounds of crank.

Staring down the possibility that she was on the hook for 10-15 years in federal lock-up, Wendy was scared and desperate. When the DEA learned of Wendy's old lady status and introduced her to Agent Stahl, Wendy was willing to make just about any kind of deal that would keep her out of prison.

Dahlmer had already agreed to cooperate with the DEA as a confidential informant, providing them with information on the meth trade and the crews operating out of Pope and Nevada. Sensing that she was about to take the fall for simply riding shotgun, Wendy agreed to work with the ATF to take down the Sons of Anarchy in return for keeping her out of jail.

So unknown to her soon-to-be-ex-husband and his Club, Wendy Case became the first mole ever planted by the ATF inside the SAMCRO Clubhouse. For the next 12 months, Wendy had provided whatever meager Intel she could gather on the MC to Stahl, all the while hoping that the Club would not find out and that somehow she would still be able to hold on to her marriage to Jax.

Unfortunately for Wendy, she had killed far too many brain cells after years of crank use. Had she been firing with all cylinders, she would have realized that she had a better chance of getting out of prison alive than she did by ratting on the Club. Regardless of the fact that she was a woman, Wendy Case had been the cause of too much emotional pain in Charming. Now she was gambling with SAMCRO's freedom and she was too stupid to realize that the odds always favored the house.

Finally faced with the reality that Jolene's return to Charming meant she was reuniting with Jax, Wendy played the only ace she had up her sleeve—the unfiled divorce papers. Hoping to make a big enough pay day so that she could somehow escape the mess that was her life and her situation with the Feds, Jax had taken away the last shred of hope she had left by having their divorce finalized in Nevada, in turn, screwing her out of a big settlement. Wendy had no choice but to whore herself out to the first Club member that would give her the time of day after Jax had practically branded her untouchable. Although there was never a shortage of men looking to take her up on what she had to offer, none offered to make her their old lady, which was the only hope she had of getting close enough to the Club in order to fulfill her obligations to the ATF skank.

Fortunately, however, Dahlmer wasn't the only one she had been screwing while Jax was in prison. Huff, the VP of the Tucson charter had been another one of her prison clause boyfriends, but one that she had kept on the down low, mainly because Huff was fearful of reprisals from the SAMCRO VP should their hook up become known.

After being run out of town on a rail, Wendy had made her way to Tucson and made herself indispensable to the older man. Huff had been very talkative regarding the Club during their time together, and much of the Intel that Wendy had managed to pass on to Stahl had come directly from him. Knowing that a plan was in motion for Huff to become more involved in the gun running on behalf of his charter, Wendy knew that he would be her best link back into the Club.

Becoming Huff's old lady and making use of the leverage she was holding above SAMCRO's President had helped Wendy get her foot back in the door. But now Stahl was looking for info that Wendy had not yet been able to get her hands on and, worse yet, that she was afraid she would never be able get.

"It hasn't been easy. You have to give me a little time." Wendy whined.

Stahl looked at her and quickly backhanded her again. "You need to get your shit together and quick, little girl. All I have to do is talk to my friends at the DEA and tell them that the deal is off the table, and since your boyfriend is holding up his end of the bargain, you are the one that will end up doing the hard time. But don't worry. A hot little number like you, I'm sure you'll be somebody's bitch by the end of your first day in the joint."

Stahl crossed her arms and observed the whimpering mess before her.

_Obviously this whore needs a little motivation to get her ass in gear_.

"You are so fucking pathetic, you know that? Is it any wonder why Jax Teller dumped the pathetic whore that you are in favor of a former old lady? From what I have been able to observe, Jolene Teller is one tough bitch wrapped in a pretty package." Stahl mocked. Shaking her head in disgust, she continued, "After the way he humiliated you, I thought that you would have been chomping at the bit in order to get even with your ex. I, mean, really, Teller waited all of four weeks after dumping your sorry ass before marrying his ex-biker whore in the wedding of the century, at least by Charming's standards."

Wendy ran a shaky hand through her long extensions. It still made her go ape-shit to think about the lavish wedding. When she returned to the Clubhouse, Emily Duncan had taken great pains to rub in her face the no-expense spared wedding of the SAMCRO Princess to the Prince of Charming, billed as the biker wedding to end all biker weddings.

_That bitch stole my happily-ever-after right out from under me_, Wendy raged to herself.

Stahl continued. "I bet that stings a little. Don't you want payback, or are you afraid Jolene Teller will just end up knocking out the rest of your teeth?"

"Oh, I want payback." Wendy said through the pain of her clenched jaw and grinding teeth.

"Then get me the Intel I need and not only will I cut you loose on your drug charges, I'll do one better."

"What?" Wendy's eyes glittered with avarice.

"Well, how about a new life for you and your dumbass boyfriend with a shitload of money to finance it? You help me take down SAMCRO and their gun connections in Ireland and not only will you get a new life in Witness Protection, but you'll have the immense pleasure of seeing Jax and his entire crew serve 25-to-life for gun running. His little whore will grow old and withered before she sees her man free again." Stahl smiled coldly. "Now how does that sound?"

_Pretty damn good to me._

Seeing the joy reflected in Wendy's eyes, Stahl smiled. "Then I suggest you start spending less time with your junkie boyfriend and more time with that old buzzard you're fucking and get me that Intel."

"How much are we talking?" Wendy all but licked her lips as she visualized mounds of cold, hard cash.

Stahl smiled. _It's like leading a lamb to the slaughter._

"I'd have to talk to my Director, and the Attorney General," She replied coyly. "But I'm thinking possibly somewhere in the high six-figure bracket, that is, if what you bring me destroys the Club and the Real IRA."

The idea of clearing that kind of cash was mind-blowing to Wendy. The fact was that even though she was with Huff, the Tucson charter wasn't rolling in dough, not like the mother charter. Wendy had been living the high life during her 16 months as Mrs. Jackson Teller and she had quickly grown accustomed to having money and lots of it at her finger tips. In the two months since leaving Charming, Wendy had pissed through the settlement Jax had given her. Getting paid big time to rat out the Club, plus the added pleasure of punishing Jax for choosing his former slut over her and for the all the humiliating beatings she had suffered at the hands of Jolene Morrow made Wendy tingle all over.

Grinning at woman, Wendy crossed her arms under her chest. "Tell me what you want me to do."

* * *

As most parents of young children could understand, Jax had barely dropped Abel off at his mother's house and he was already starting to feel guilty. Even though he had pulled a late night working at Bluebird with Tig and Chibs and had crawled into bed only a few hours ago, Jax had been up bright and early. With his old lady still drooling into her pillow, Jax had managed to intercept his son before he jumped onto their bed and woke his mother up. It had been quickly approaching 8 o'clock and Jax had convinced Abel to take an early morning walk with his old man around the neighborhood. If he timed it right, Jax plotted devilishly, they'd walk by the Morrow house just as Neeta was pulling in to start her work day.

As Jax had hoped, the moment Abel saw Neeta heading up the walkway towards the front door, he dropped his father's hand and ran at full speed, leaping into her waiting arms.

"Daddy, you can go now," Abel declared, snuggling up against the buxom woman as she dropped kisses onto his blond head. "I'm gonna stay with Miss Neeta."

"Little Man, I don't know if that's a good idea. Neeta might be busy today." Jax protested feebly, trying hard to suppress a coy grin as Neeta gave him a knowing look.

"I'm busy every day, but Abel and I have a lot of catching up to do after his two-week break with his Momma. When does Jolene go back to work?" Neeta asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Tomorrow." Jax replied, finally losing the battle to keep himself from grinning like a lovesick schoolboy.

"Uh-huh, that's what I thought. Well, run along." Neeta shooed Jax away. "We can have some breakfast before you help me sort the laundry. How does that sound, baby boy?" Neeta asked as she turned and headed up the front stairs with Abel still in her arms.

Abel was nodding enthusiastically. "I want pancakes."

"Well, of course you do. You _are_ your mother's son!" Neeta laughed heartily as Jax turned and practically ran back home.

Yeah, Jax felt a little guilty hustling his kid out of the house so early, but with Jolene going back to work until the official last day of the school year at the end of the week, time was running out to convince her to take the summer off. Dashing into the house through the front door, Jax took the stairs leading up to their bedroom two at a time, only to head back downstairs when he couldn't find her.

Smiling as he pushed the swinging door into the kitchen, Jax found his old lady sitting cross-legged on the counter. She was loosely wrapped in her white satin robe with "Mrs. Teller" embroidered on the back in a dainty lavender cursive, her wild and untamed curls pulled into a high ponytail. Taken aback by what she was eating, Jax laughed as he dropped slow, lingering kisses on the back of her neck.

Jolene felt shivers run down her spine. "Hey, watch it. You're gonna melt my ice cream." She gave him a cheeky grin as Jax moved to stand in front of her, his hands on her bare thighs. "Want some?" She not-so-innocently offered him her sugar cone of vanilla ice cream as she bit her lip.

"Hell's yeah, and I'll get me some as soon as you put that cone down." Jax teased as he leaned towards her and growled against her neck.

"No chance, Teller. This is my breakfast." Jolene giggled as Jax pulled the satin tie on her robe, causing it to fall open and exposing her breasts.

"Silly question, but why are you eating ice cream at 8:30 in the morning?" Jax pulled away slightly in order to let her hair down, his hands suddenly lost in its silky thickness.

Jolene shrugged her naked shoulders as her robe fell around her bent elbows. "Because there's never a bad time for ice cream, baby."

Having heard her old man trying to convince their son to take a walk this morning, Jolene had a sneaking suspicion that his intention was to drop Abel off at Gemma's. Crawling out of bed, she had started making breakfast for when he returned, but the first gulp of coffee she drank upset her stomach. Remembering that milk had always soothed her tummy as a child, Jolene suddenly developed a major craving for the frozen kind.

"Open." Jolene offered him her cone.

"Nah, I'm good." Jax smirked, cupping her tit, his thumb grazing the nipple.

"Come on, take a lick." Jolene coaxed playfully as she batted her eyelashes.

Jax shook his head, an evil grin playing on his lips. "I'd rather lick something else, darlin'."

"Lick it!" Suppressing a giggle, Jolene demanded, forcing Jax to laugh as he continued shaking his head. "How about now?" She smeared the vanilla ice cream on the nipple he had been teasing into a bud.

Jax raised an eyebrow as his gaze went from her breast to her face. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. You don't play fair. Besides, I was thinking of licking someplace a little lower." He complained teasingly, watching her lick circles around the ice cream she had worked into a pointed tip, imagining it was him in her mouth.

"Aww, I'm sorry, baby." She said, her tongue quickly darting out to lick a dribble of ice cream falling from her lip. "I'll make it up to you."

Jolene suddenly hitched her breath as Jax dipped his head and gently bit into her nipple before lavishing it with his tongue. Jolene moaned softly as she watched him lick her tit clean of the ice cream before moving to the other one. Tossing her cone over her shoulder and into the sink next to her, Jolene balled her hands into his hair, bringing his mouth up to hers.

Letting his dick make the decision of taking her right there, Jax pulled her towards him by the waist with one hand, while he undid his jeans with the other. Reaching the edge of the counter, Jolene cupped Jax's face and lovingly returned his kisses before pushing him away. Jumping off the counter and landing on her feet, Jolene quickly fell to her knees and finished pulling down his pants.

As if she had read his mind earlier, Jolene took him into her mouth, no hesitation and no teasing.

"Oh, fuck, baby!" Jax groaned as he buried his hands in her hair again and gripped the back of her head.

With his breathing quickening, Jax watched her take him in and pull him out, massaging his shaft with one hand as her tongue teased several droplets of pre-cum out of the tip. Jax bit his bottom lip, forcing himself to hold back as she took him completely into her mouth again and looked up at him with her beautifully wide and smiling green eyes.

"Shit, Jo! You have any idea how much I fuckin' love you?" Jax practically snarled, his grip tightening in her hair as she pulled his dick out of her mouth with a pop.

"Hey! You know the rules. No 'I love yous' while you're getting your rocks off." She teased, brushing loose curls away from her face and mouth.

"Fuck the rules, darlin'. I'm in love with my fuckin' wife. There are no goddamn rules."

Jolene smiled up at him. "Doesn't matter 'cause I love you more anyway."

"Good," Jax smiled as he cupped her face and bent over to kiss her. "Now wrap those pretty lips around my dick again." He winked at her.

Laughing, Jolene did as she was told and was rewarded with sounds coming from Jax that made her insides quiver and she felt herself get wet. Jolene grabbed onto his rock hard ass, forcing Jax to close his eyes as he felt himself hit the back of her throat.

"Holy shit!" Jax exclaimed as she pushed herself to take more of him in. The feel of her throat wrapped around his cock wasn't just nice, it was spectacular, but it still couldn't compare to her tight pussy. "Come here, babe." He pulled himself out and helped Jolene onto her wobbly feet. "Let's finish this upstairs." Jax smiled as she nodded at him, her eyes glazed over with desire, her pupils dilated.

Jax finished stepping out of his jeans before scooping her up and carrying her upstairs.

* * *

With her head resting on Jax's chest, Jolene watched through half-hooded eyes as tiny dust particles danced in the air, made visible by the mid-day sun that had fought its way through the partially drawn curtains. With Jax absently massaging soft circles onto her back, Jolene was in danger of falling fast asleep. As much as she wanted to, Jolene knew she couldn't stay in bed all day, especially since she had to go back to work tomorrow. She was going to miss these quiet moments during the day with her old man, especially if she took Pat Doyle up on his offer to teach summer school in Stockton.

Jolene giggled quietly as she hiked her leg up on Jax's and felt his finally-flaccid penis flop against her thigh.

"Oh my God," She started, her voice a little hoarse from all the noise Jax had her making earlier. She loved her baby, but sometimes Mommy/Daddy "bonding time" could be so much more fun without Abel in the house. "I think this is the first time your dick hasn't been hard all morning."

Jax chuckled. "Keep rubbing your leg on me and that can change in a hot minute, darlin'."

He pulled her tight against his chest and kissed her forehead. Jolene coiled one arm around his waist possessively as Jax wrapped both of his around her.

Jolene smiled as she looked up at her old man. "I normally wouldn't mind taking you up on that offer, but I can't stay in bed all day. It's been a fun two weeks, but I need to get ready for tomorrow." She sat up and crossed her legs. "I really love spending time with you and Abel and I'm going to miss this if I take that job teaching summer school in Stockton."

He may be selfish, but after four years apart, Jax wanted her home and all to himself this summer. Jax sat up and promptly tackled his old lady so that they were sprawled on the edge of their bed. "Then darlin', don't take it. It's not like you're the only teacher in NorCal. Can't Doyle find somebody else?"

"I'm sure he can, but this is an opportunity to teach an advance placement class for seniors aiming to graduate early. I'd be teaching kids who want to be there and are not being forced to be there. I've managed to build up a pretty good rep in the short time I've been teaching again and Pat offering me this position is a testament to that. It's really nice to be wanted." Jolene explained, her fingers absently playing with the hair on his chin.

Jax grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers lovingly. "I know, babe, but I want you too. Besides, it's been pretty hectic for you these last few months with the wedding, work, taking care of Abel and me, and this big ass house. We're not even completely unpacked yet. And yeah, you've had a couple of weeks off since that shit with Stahl, but I really think you need more. Sometimes you look on the verge of collapsing."

"You might have a point." Jolene wavered. Truth be told, he had her when he said he wanted her too.

"There's no _might_ about it, babe." Jax started, but hesitated for a moment and Jolene could sense it.

"What is it, baby?" She asked with a slightly furrowed brow.

Jax shook his head. "I was just hoping to go on a family vacation, just you, me and Abel. I want to start making memories with the two of you." He thought about the picture of Abel at the beach that Jolene had put in the photo album she gave him in Chino. "You and Abel have so many of them without me. I just want to be a part of that."

Jolene sighed to herself. As much as she and Jax had agreed not to look back on all the things that they had missed out on as a family, it was hard not to. Her old man was right. They needed to start making these memories together. There would be plenty of opportunities for her to work. Her time now should be spent with their new family, especially as Abel was getting older and would start Pre-K at Charming Elementary in the Fall.

"When you're right, you're right." Jolene smiled. "I'll take the summer off, baby." She reached up and kissed her old man tenderly on the mouth.

Smiling back broadly, Jax winked at her. "We should celebrate." Jumping out of the bed, Jolene watched his fine-looking naked ass head for the balcony. "I think we need to test drive the hot tub, so why don't you go get another ice cream cone while I fill it up?" Jax grinned lecherously.

* * *

Reliving her tense telephone conversation with her supervisor several days before, Stahl leaned back in her chair and rubbed both hands on her face. As a wunderkind since her early days with the ATF, she wasn't accustomed to the ass-chewing Samuelson had dished out. It was a good thing she had had the forethought to vacate her team from the small office she had been regulated to at the station house before the verbal beat down had commenced.

"_This is a real problem, June. You had assured me that with a little pressure Jolene Morrow would fold. Why the sudden turnaround, huh? Why are you all of a sudden trying to breathe air into a dead lead? Wendy Case has been an additional expense for this Division for a long sixteen months and we have nothing substantial to show for it. How am I supposed to explain that to my superiors and how can I possibly justify continuing to keep her on the payroll when she has given us NOTHING? As the lead Agent on this case, I expect you to rectify that situation. Wendy Case is in the perfect position now to give us what we need and I suggest you figure out a way for her to do that before she ends up in a fuckin' body bag." Samuelson barked before slamming the phone down in his agent's ear._

After that verbal smack down from the Special Agent who had always had nothing but high praise for her, Stahl had sat motionless in her office. The desire to flip out and go on a spree of destruction was almost overwhelming. Samuelson had been livid regarding her little temper tantrum in the interview room that would cost the ATF several thousand dollars in damages. Stahl couldn't afford to lose her shit again, in spite of her need to beat Jolene Teller to death should their paths ever meet again.

Now there was news that a mole had been uncovered within the rank-and-file in Stockton. Stahl's sources back at her home office had advised that the wave of aftershocks came hard and fast from way up the food chain and that Special Agent Samuelson's ass was in a sling because of it. Stahl had locked herself in her office in order to come up with a way to use this bit of information to her benefit before Samuelson had a free moment from getting his own ass chewed to call again and bitch her out. Apparently, the mole was working for the Real IRA and such a close connection to the case she was working on would definitely put her in his crosshairs. If someone's head had to roll, Stahl was determined it would not be hers.

Frank Boyer, a low-level analyst in the Stockton Division had been dimed out by his own wife. Having suspected her husband of 25 years of having an affair, Deirdre Boyer had hired a private investigator to smoke out the truth about her husband's late nights and strange behavior. Instead of discovering another woman, the P.I. had uncovered concrete proof that Boyer had several accounts containing large sums of money in the Cayman Islands and the possibility that he was betraying his country.

After confronting her husband, Boyer had confessed to funneling information to the Real IRA in return for money to finance their future together after he retired. Convincing her husband that she would keep his secret, Deirdre wasted no time in contacting his superiors. Her children were still young and needed at least one parent around. She wasn't going to gamble with her freedom and their children's future because of her husband's sheer stupidity and greed.

Having been detained without a word as to why, Frank Boyer quickly realized he was in serious trouble when he discovered that Agent Stahl, who had been working for years to bring down the RIRA, had immediately returned to Stockton to personally handle his interrogation. Stahl had spent eight hours questioning the stupid son of a bitch to determine just how extensive the leak was and how much damage was caused by the knowledge that had flowed out of the ATF and into the hands of the RIRA.

Now, sitting in her office, Stahl mulled over the information she had gotten out of the mole to see how she could best use it to her advantage. Having come up with a somewhat intricate plan, Stahl was nonetheless convinced it could work. If handled correctly, she would not only protect her own mole inside the SAMCRO Clubhouse, but she just might effectively get rid of the current thorn in her flesh at the same time without having to lift a finger.

Looking at the mug shot of a young Jolene Teller, Stahl smiled to herself.

_And the icing on my cake is the fact that it might just very well be your own old man who ends up cleaning up this whole mess for me._


	6. School's Out

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

Jolene threw her messenger bag on top of the bar, startling Piney as he was about to down a shot. Smiling prettily, she reached over and grabbed the shot glass out of his hand. Jolene was about to knock back the contents when, as quick as a snake, Piney grabbed it right back, managing to not spill a drop.

The cantankerous old biker glared at her. "Thirsty, huh?"

"You betcha!"

"Then go find your own damn glass!"

"Oh, come on old man, you can spare one for me." Jolene pouted as she batted her long eyelashes at him.

"Not today." Piney groused after downing the shot and pouring himself another. "Besides, why are you so damn cheerful?"

Jolene grinned. "Because it's the last day of school and I'm free as a bird!"

"Then go find your old man and celebrate with _him_." Piney grumbled. "He's in his old dorm washing up."

"You know, that's actually not a bad idea." Jolene smiled devilishly as she patted Piney on the shoulder of his denim cut. "And waaay better than tequila shots!"

"Says you." Piney objected as Jolene dropped a kiss on her grumpy "uncle" and practically skipped towards the dorms.

* * *

Jax groaned as the hot water cascaded over his back. He wasn't normally into taking showers in the middle of the afternoon, but he had spent a tiring morning at Bluebird testing the assembly of the latest shipment of guns for LaRoy and he reeked of gunpowder. Not wanting Abel to catch a whiff of the strong odor on him, Jax decided to make a quick stop at the Clubhouse. As much as he loved SAMCRO and his outlaw life style, he tried to do as much as possible to down play it with his son, who, even at a young age, had a razor-sharp mind and could quickly put things together that he really didn't need to know.

Jax was about to step out of the shower when he heard the bathroom door open and then, moments later, felt his old lady's arms wrap around his naked waist.

"Oh, I don't think you're finished yet, sport."

Jax looked over his shoulder with a lascivious grin. "I'm not?" He replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Nope. It's Teacher's last day of school and she deserves a very special treat."

"How about an apple, darlin'? Jax joked as he saw the determined look in her seafoam green eyes.

"Nah, I think it's gonna take more than a piece of fruit to get me off. Although something with a _banana-like shape_ might do the trick, along with a long and slow massage in all the right places."

Turning towards his old lady, Jax wrapped his arms around her and smiled down into her slightly upturned face. "You are a dirty girl, you know that?" He chuckled.

"That's why you love me."

"That is true." Jax dipped his head, nipping at her earlobe before marking the sensitive area of her neck below her ear with his teeth and tongue.

"Mmmm," Jolene moaned, her eyes dangerously close to rolling to the back of her head as she raked the Reaper on his back with her nails.

Bringing his mouth to hers, Jax kissed her long and slow as Jolene let her hands roam, enjoying the granite hardness of his shoulders, chest, and arms. Reaching a little lower, Jolene giggled as she came into contact with a certain part of his anatomy that was also as hard as a rock.

"Already?"

"Hey, I get hard just thinking about you, darlin'. It surprises you that holding my hot, naked, and wet old lady does the trick that much quicker?" Jax said as Jolene pressed kisses against his mouth.

Bracing himself as the water continued to fall over them, Jax grabbed a slippery Jolene by her waist, hoisting her up against the tiled wall. Smiling at the unwavering look of determination on her old man's face, Jolene gasped as she felt his tip teasing her entrance.

"What was that, babe? You want me to stop and put you down?" He teased, but Jolene could see that he was fighting hard to hold back.

"Don't you dare!" Jolene threatened and tightened her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Oh God!" Jolene cried out as a result of the force with which Jax plunged into her.

"Fuck!" He snarled against her lips before claiming her mouth with his, one hand holding her face while his other gripped one of her plump ass cheeks as he pumped his hips into her.

Kissing each other breathless, Jax finally pulled away. Grinding her hips achingly slow as Jax looked up into her beautiful eyes, Jolene was making soft, whimpering noises that were urging him to push harder and faster.

As if confirming his thoughts, Jolene nodded as she grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss. "Yeah, do it, baby." She whispered against his mouth. Always aiming to please, especially, his old lady, Jax grabbed onto her slender hips, as Jolene braced herself against the tiles and arched her back. Bending towards her as he continued his frenetic pounding, Jax nuzzled her full and perky breasts with his face before nearly inhaling one of her nipples.

Pulling herself up and wrapping her arms around his neck, Jolene moaned, feeling the warmth spread from her belly as she shuddered against Jax, in spite of the hot and steamy shower. Jax grunted as he felt her tighten around him even more with her orgasm, milking him for every last drop.

_How is that possible_, Jax thought as he groaned into her wet hair.

Even slick with her own juices mixing with his, Jolene was tight around his dick. They were like two pieces that were made to go together, and that wasn't a cliché or innuendo. Jax truly only felt whole when she was in his orbit. She made him a better man and he loved her for it.

Making love to his old lady was quickly becoming his favorite summer pastime.

* * *

Walking into the Clubhouse's Main Room, Jolene spotted her old man sitting at the bar recently vacated by Piney. Binding her damp hair into a towel turban on her head, Jolene watched as Jax finished a call on his pre-pay. He had been giving Juice some last minute instructions on finalizing the Niner order in time for delivery next week.

As he closed his pre-pay, Jax growled as his old lady wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "Think you'll ever get tired of me groping you every chance I get?" Jolene stood on her tip-toes in order to drop hot kisses on the side of his bearded face.

"Never." Jax smiled as her hands found their way under his cut and t-shirt.

"Mmmm, nice." Jolene moaned against his ear as she massaged his pecs.

Jax laughed softly. The warmer weather and highly-anticipated time off from work was turning his woman into a horny housewife, and he loved it.

Letting go of Jax, Jolene slipped onto the bar stool right next to him.

"Think you'll ever get tired of me bending you over whenever and _wherever_ the mood strikes?" He teased, his eyes drinking in her beautiful face scrubbed free of all make up and glowing.

Jolene smiled, her eyes connecting with his. "Never. As a matter of fact, you're spoiling me, Jax. And not just with the quality and frequency either. You are very creative when it comes to location as well. Garage. Chapel. Your bike."

Jax grinned. "I am all about the service, darlin'. Besides, we're newlyweds and we're duty bound to rut like animals." Jolene giggled as he waggled his blond eyebrows at her. "And I'm glad to hear you say that, babe, because I have a couple of more places I want to add to the list. Unfortunately, it'll have to wait 'til I get back from Nevada."

Reminded of the bike rally that SAMCRO was sponsoring with the Reno Charter, Jolene could do very little to hide the fact that she was rolling her eyes at him.

Seeing his wife's face, Jax did a double take. "Why am I seeing the whites of your eyes, darlin'? What did I do now?"

Jolene pulled the towel off her head and shook her damp curls, fluffing them up with her hands. "Nothing . . . Yet." She replied. "But the last time you left me to go to Nevada, the Reno Whore showed up shortly thereafter."

Jax laughed as leaned in to give her a kiss, but Jolene pulled away at the last second. Looking at her with a furrowed brow, Jax grabbed her hands and pulled her off the stool towards him. Pinning her arms behind her back, Jolene was trapped between his powerful thighs.

"I would promise that there was no chance of the Reno Whore showing up, but she's already here, babe."

"Humph! Don't remind me." Jolene pouted as she yanked her hands out of his vice-like grip and punched him on the shoulder of his cut. Jax smiled. Playful she might be, but damn, there was still power behind that little fist. "Besides, this is Reno we're talking about. I'm sure there will be at least ten Wendys for every biker once you get there."

"What's your point, darlin'?" Jax asked seriously, reaching up with both hands to smooth down her wayward curls before cupping her face. "Yeah, I agree. Cheap whores are a dime a dozen, but there's only one Jolene Teller, and she's the hottest, baddest, dirtiest biker bitch on the planet. You really think I'm gonna risk losing all that again over cheap pussy?"

Jolene was fighting really hard to suppress a smile. "You promise?" She almost whispered.

"I swear." Jax said, his mouth on hers. Jolene teasingly ran her tongue over his lips, prompting Jax to pull her in for a soul-searing kiss.

Jolene clung to Jax as if letting go meant dying. She was dreading the thought of Jax in Nevada. Not because she thought he would actually step out on her, not after everything they had been through together.

_Besides, he's bagged and tagged_, Jolene thought with a slight smirk.

Jolene's misgivings had to do with the flood of bad memories this trip to Reno stirred up. She trusted Jax, she trusted him with her life, but Jolene wasn't new to the game. She knew that the brotherhood lived by many codes, one of them being "what happens on a run, stays on a run." Jolene knew what was waiting for him once he got there—sweetbutts as far as the eye could see, all stepping over each other and chomping at the bit for a chance to get with the VP of the mother charter.

_Really, what man could resist that shit_?

Although she trusted her old man, they had been married for less than three months. The separation anxiety—especially after knowing all too well what it was like to live without him—was bound to kill her if she was left behind for an entire weekend so soon.

Once again proving how deep their connection was, Jax read her mind and offered without hesitation, "Come with me."

Jolene's eyes brightened at the thought of hitting the open road with her old man again, but just as quickly, the spark was gone.

"I can't." She said sadly.

Thinking she was afraid of what Clay or the others might say, he smiled. "I say you can." Jax assured her. "Don't worry 'bout the Club, darlin'. You've been on plenty of runs with me before."

Jolene was shaking her head. "No, baby, that's not it." She started. "Stahl may not be done with me yet. During one of her _many_ interrogations, she 'suggested' that leaving Charming under any circumstance might net me some time in County lockup. She said taking into consideration the times that I abruptly left Seattle and Charming meant I was a flight risk."

"What?" Jax thundered. "Why haven't you mentioned this before?" He asked, his jaw tight, a clear indicator that if he didn't like the answer, he was gonna blow.

"I didn't think it was a big deal at the time and honestly, I haven't thought about it again until just now." Jolene explained. "I'm sure it's just an empty threat, Jax. She was pissed that I wouldn't give her anything regarding the shooting. Stahl's convinced that I know exactly who shot me, why, and what happened to him as a result." She explained.

_And that's not all._

Jolene had kept the details regarding Stahl's line of questioning to a minimum, never even thinking about sharing the events that had taken place during her exile in Seattle when she was 17 with her old man. To this day, no one but her father knew the true circumstances of her flight from Seattle. Had Jolene not managed to get her hands on the deep background information on good old _Claire_, she would have been left with no cards to play against the ATF skank.

Now that they knew what they were holding against each other, Jolene was pretty sure that she had enough to prevent Stahl from going after the Club for the "disappearances" of two low-life dirt bags. Even then, she just couldn't bring herself to tell anyone about her near-rape and the subsequent murder of her would-be rapist, especially her new husband.

So Jolene decided that that part of the interrogation was a non-issue and had kept what had happened under wraps. Instead she took pains to assure Jax that everything was fine. Sensing that he wasn't buying it, if the scowl marring his handsome face was anything to go by, Jolene lovingly stroked the hair on his face before running her fingers through the short blond hair on his head. She was dropping tiny pecks on his lips, hoping he would respond, which he did. But after ravaging her mouth, he was back on the Stahl issue.

"Over my dead, fuckin' body," Jax nearly growled, responding to the voice in his head telling him that Stahl was bent on taking his old lady from him one way or another. He pressed one last hard kiss against her lips and headed to the door.

"Where are you going?" Jolene called after him.

Jax shook his head. "I'm gonna take care of this, darlin'." He replied. "When I come back, we'll get Abel settled at G-Ma's and then go home so you can pack a bag 'cause we leave for Nevada in the morning."

"Oh shit!" Jolene exclaimed, as she followed him out the door.

"Where's Jackie Boy off to in such a huff?" Chibs asked, flicking his cigarette as Jolene approached.

"He's going to Charming PD." Jolene replied about to yank a clump of hair out of her head. "He wants to talk to Stahl."

Opie and Chibs exchanged surprised looks. From the look on his face, it was obvious "talk" carried a different meaning for Jax.

"Please go with him." Jolene pleaded, not entirely sure what Stahl was capable of if backed further into a corner.

Remembering the rage his friend had been in while Jolene was in federal custody, Opie jumped off the picnic table, he and Chibs making it to their bikes as Jax ripped out of the T-M lot.

* * *

Unser had barely set a foot out of his office when he saw Jax Teller swagger into the station house and head straight for him. From the look on his face it was painfully obvious that this was not a social call and Unser fought the urge to high tail his ass back into his office. He would have had time too, as his apparently dense deputy chief jumped up from the desk he was using in the squad room to type up a report and practically blocked Jax's path.

"Can I help you?" Hale asked as Jax came to a halt mere inches from his face.

Jax narrowed his eyes, his jaw tense, and his stance inflexible. "I'm not here to talk to you today, but that might change should I find out that you had anything to do with the Feds harassing my wife."

"Being under the jurisdiction of the Sanwa Sheriff's Department, I am compelled to aid the federal government in any way I can," Hale started. "But I assure you, any helping hand I may have given was not meant for the harassment of Jolene."

Jax smirked. "Yeah, I kinda figured she wasn't your primary target." He replied in a low, menacing voice. "You wanna take the Club down, Hale, you wanna take _me_ down, by all means, give it your best shot, but you leave my old lady out of this."

"You might be able to bully local law enforcement and keep them from doing their job by laying down such an edict, Mr. Teller," Stahl said as she sauntered into the squad room. "But you will soon find out that I do not bend quite so easily to thug pressure."

"And who the fuck are you?" Jax turned his attention to the tall blonde, feigning ignorance. He knew Stahl all too well from the information Juice was able to gather for him.

"Why, I'm Special Agent June Stahl." Stahl smiled engagingly. "I am the lead agent on this case."

"And what case might that be?"

"That, for now, is classified information, Mr. Teller," Stahl replied. "But should certain leads pan out, I think you and I will be making an acquaintance real soon." She said smugly.

Stahl, not easily unnerved by the opposite sex, was slightly thrown off as Jax suddenly flashed her with a rakish grin. Dipping his gloved finger into the breast pocket under his "Redwood Original" patches, Jax pulled out a business card, flicking it at Stahl. Catching it with both hands as it hit her in the chest, Stahl raised an eyebrow as she read Scott Rosen's contact information.

"Should those leads work out for you," Jax started confidently. "Make sure you call that number first, but in the mean time, stay away from my wife."

Stahl crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head regretfully. "Like I said, I cannot allow myself to be bullied. Jolene Morrow is an integral part of my investigation and I will continue to reserve all rights in calling her back for questioning at any given time." She explained. "Either she cooperates or, being that my case involves threats against national security, federal law allows me to detain Jolene Morrow indefinitely. By doing so, she will be branded a suspected terrorist and will be whisked away to a federal detention center, making contact with the outside world impossible."

The look that flashed across Jax's face startled both Unser and Hale, but before either one could intervene, Jax spoke up, the calmness of his tone betrayed only by the murder in his steely blue eyes.

"On what grounds?" Jax asked evenly. "From what I understand, the only way you were able to pull her in was on a warrant you knew was bogus, but you didn't let that stop you from keeping her for over 18 hours of questioning while denying her access to her family or an attorney. I'm not here to 'bully' you into doing anything, Agent Stahl. That's what my attorney's for. I only _ask_ that you leave her alone and withdraw your threat of County lockup should she step outside Charming. In case you haven't noticed, it's Summer and I would like to take my beautiful old lady away for the weekend. If you make that impossible for me, I can make life very difficult for you."

Stahl almost guffawed. "Are you threatening me, Mr. Teller?" She said, her eyes briefly falling to Jax's "Men of Mayhem" patch before making eye contact with him again.

"Only with raising a stink with your superiors by having my attorney file a complaint for false imprisonment and harassment. And when I unleash him, at $1200 an hour, you can best believe that he _will_ make your life difficult."

Stahl eyed the determined biker hell bent on defending his whore. There was no way for her to know just how much Jolene had told her old man regarding their last conversation before she had arrogantly called an end to her own interrogation. Stahl was afraid that pushing this pissing contest any further would expose the ugly truth about her. Even then, she was inclined to believe that Jax Teller knew nothing about the information Jolene had managed to gather. She had gambled on that belief by threatening to hold Jolene indefinitely in federal lockup. The best he could do was threaten to file a complaint with her superiors. As benign as that threat seemed, however, considering her recent temper tantrum that resulted in the trashing of the interrogation room, Stahl didn't want to take any chances in compromising her case. Since she was most definitely still residing on Samuelson's shit list, Stahl decided that standing down might be the right move at the moment.

Besides, Stahl had other plans for Jolene Teller that no longer included trying to get her to turn on her family, but rather to get her family to turn on _her_.

"Okay." Stahl replied calmly as two other menacing bikers she recognized as Harry "Opie" Winston and Filip "Chibs" Telford entered the station and made a beeline towards the small group that had captured everyone's attention. "I don't blame you at all for being so overprotective of your old lady, Mr. Teller. After all, she is quite a fetching wildcat. I'm sure that, if word of your nuptials made its way up North, there were plenty of broken hearts scattered across Seattle's nightlife."

All five men, especially Jax, had the same quizzical look on their faces as a result of Stahl's last comment. It was so tempting to drop the Lollipop Café bomb fall on what Stahl would bet her badge on was an unsuspecting Jax Teller, but doing so would put her own secrets in danger. Realizing the potential fuck-up she had let her hatred for the raven-haired beauty make, Stahl quickly backtracked by excusing herself.

"Have a good day, gentlemen." Stahl smiled as she motioned for Agent Estevez to join her in her office.

After watching Jax and his entourage exit the station house without another word, Hale turned toward Unser in time to see the older man shake his head disdainfully at him before turning his back and heading to his office. Knowing Jolene only as well as she had allowed him, Deputy Chief Hale could not in good conscience side with Stahl and her tactics for bringing down SAMCRO if they included bringing harm to Jolene. In spite of her less than ideal upbringing, Jolene Teller was the town darling because of her part in saving Excelsior Prep's sports program. The fact of the matter was that the Sons of Anarchy themselves were something akin to town heroes. When someone in Charming had a serious problem that would usually involve law enforcement, they went to the Sons first. Hale knew this and that's exactly what made going against SAMCRO so difficult. It seemed like he was the only one who could not turn a blind eye to all their criminal activity in spite of the good they have done for Charming.

Sitting back down at the desk he was using, Hale pulled the report he had been working on from the typewriter, crushed it into a ball, and tossed it into the garbage can. Jolene had warned him that Stahl was capable of shit she couldn't even put into words. At first, he thought it was her anger at being pulled in and detained for over 18 hours talking, but hearing the ATF agent threatening to charge the intelligent and otherwise mild-mannered high school math teacher as a suspected terrorist was beyond the pale.

Hale was starting to see, perhaps a little to late, that the enemy of his enemy was not necessarily his friend, especially if Stahl's intentions were to use Jolene as a pawn. Pawns usually ended up dead and, in spite of the fact that things between them ended even before Jolene gave them a chance, truth was Hale still cared about her. Always would. It killed him that Jax Teller got to call her his wife and mother of his son, but he was glad to see that Jax was doing what he could to protect her from his end.

And in spite of his oath to enforce the law, Hale would make sure Jolene Teller was protected from this end as well.

* * *

_For bikers that party as hard as they live, they sure do love getting up and hitting the road at the ass crack of dawn_, Jolene groused to herself as Jax grabbed the saddlebag she was practically dragging into the Main Room from his dorm. Wrapping his free arm around her shoulders, Jax pulled her towards him and kissed her long and slow.

"You look beat, babe." Jax observed, a little concerned about the dark circles under her wide, green eyes.

"You don't say? I don't know how that's possible after the whole three hours of sleep I got last night." Jolene teased as Jax grinned cockily.

"Hey, if I've told you once, darlin', I've told you a thousand times," Jax started as he led her out of the Clubhouse. "There's a _stiff_ penalty for rubbing your ass in my crotch."

"I was asleep!"

"So was I!" Jax defended himself, feigning a look like he had been violated. "But you were the one that invaded my personal space and we both know that the monster in my pants never sleeps." Laughing, Jolene stopped Jax at the Clubhouse door and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"I love you." She smiled as Jax lifted her up and carried her out towards the line of Harleys lined up outside the Clubhouse.

"I love you more." He dropped a peck on her lips before setting her down by his bike.

"Hey, Jax! You sure you wanna weigh yourself down with the old lady?" Tig called out as he settled onto his bike. "Reno charter, man. You gonna miss out on all the free hooker pussy your dick can handle." He teased as if Jax were not already privy to that information. Shit, he had practically lived in the Reno Clubhouse before Jolene had come back to Charming.

Jolene was sure Tig was just being Tig, but she did not need reminding of what awaited her old man had she not been making the trip. Jolene was usually capable of brushing him off. Today, however, Jolene was not in the mood and glared at Tig with one hand on her hip and the other gripping her helmet, ready to do damage.

"I'm standing right here, asshole."

"Don't listen to him, Kit." Bobby interceded, reading the desire to see the inside of Tig's head splattered all over T-M's black top written all over her face. "He's just jealous."

Tig guffawed, nearly tipping over his bike. Thinking about his ex-wife Colleen, Tig, suddenly serious, stopped laughing and nodded. "Yeah, maybe just a little."

Jax laughed as he grabbed Jolene by the waist and pulled her back towards him. "That's a'ight. I got all the pussy I can handle right here, darlin'." He whispered as he nipped at her ear.

Jolene smiled as she turned in Jax's arms. "Really? 'Cause if it's hooker pussy you want, baby, I'm here to tell ya, I can be a downright dirty, fucking whore and I'll fuck you better than any hooker ever could." She offered.

Jax raised an eyebrow at her. "Pinky promise and after Church tonight, you and me, we've got a date." He held up his hand. Jolene laughed as she wrapped her pinky finger around his.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Clay protested as he threw his leg over and sat on his bike. "I'm okay with you coming on the run, Jolene, but please contain that hooker bullshit _and_ that potty mouth until behind closed doors, or my heart'll give out before my hands do."

"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "And stay off any stripper poles, too." He joked.

"Geez, I tear it up on the pole once or twice and I can't live it down." Jolene teased, trying to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. _Jesus H. Christ, if __they only knew_.

"What?" Tig gasped. "Where was I and how come no one told me about that shit?"

Now it was Jax's turn to glare at Tig. "She was joking, dipshit."

"Okay, man," Tig said, his hands up. "But I seriously think she could do some major damage on a stripper pole." He said, biting his lip at the image in his head.

Clay thumped Jax on the shoulder to get his attention. "Still think it's a good idea bringing the old lady?"

"I'm starting to have my doubts." Jax replied seriously, leaning back and getting an eyeful of his wife's ass in her tight low riders.

"Hey, none of that shit! Stop trying to talk him out of it." Jolene thumped her father in return before throwing on her helmet. "And you, no backsies." She pointed at Jax.

Jax smiled. "Fine. I'd rather have you where I can keep an eye on you anyway."

With the bug Stahl had up her ass regarding his old lady, there was just no telling what kind of trouble Jolene might find herself in while he was gone. Besides, Jax had come to terms with just how pussy whipped he was a long time ago. He wanted his old lady within arms reach 24/7 if fucking possible and he was not leaving her behind, even though Tig was starting to piss him off.

"Yea!" Chibs chimed in, with a wink at Jax. "Jackie Boy's a greedy bastard!"

Jolene smirked as she climbed on behind Jax and wrapped her arms around his waist. The attitude may be archaic and she was all for women's lib and all, but nothing beat how Jax made her feel with his possessiveness. Yeah, she was going to take real good care of her old man this weekend. So good, in fact, that Jax wouldn't even give the free hooker pussy a second thought.

To the steady roar of at least a dozen Harleys revving up, following Club tradition, the Prez led the procession out of the parking lot. Followed next by the VP with his old lady riding bitch, the Sergeant-at-Arms, Secretary, and finally the rest of the Club, the Sons hit the road heading for Nevada. As they sped north on the I-22, Jolene relished the feeling of her arms wrapped around her old man and the wind whipping through her hair.

Looking forward to their time away together, neither Jax nor Jolene had any idea just how eventful, and life-altering, this bike rally weekend would be.


	7. Road to Reno

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**A/N: I wasn't planning on posting again this week, but the feedback I have been getting in the form of reviews and alerts has been overwhelming. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Reviews really do feed my soul, so to encourage those who would rather remain nameless or that are not registered members of this site, I have adjusted my account to allow for anonymous reviews.**

**I want to thank everyone for reading and for reviewing. Special thanks to CupKatyCakes who inspired me to post this chapter earlier than planned. Please enjoy and don't forget to review! :)**

* * *

Jolene had forgotten how tiring riding bitch with her old man for four-plus hours could be. It had been years since she had gone on a run with Jax. The last time she could recall was during her last year of college and even then, it had been to visit Uncle Jury in Indian Hills, which was a couple of hours closer to Charming. But clinging onto her old man as they ripped down the road had brought back such good memories that, even though she was exhausted, she was enjoying herself too much to complain.

Jolene couldn't help but feel a little guilty about leaving her baby boy behind in order to go to Reno for the weekend, but fortunately for her, Abel didn't seem to mind a bit, which made it a little easier. After almost a year in his new hometown of Charming, her little man had honed his skills of persuasion through negotiation. It didn't hurt that he was cute as a button, too. Pleading his case, Abel had managed to mentally exhaust his otherwise hard ass grandma into giving in and having his two best hanging buddies, Kenny and Ellie Winston, over for a weekend-long slumber party.

If Gemma survived the next 48 hours with a houseful of rambunctious biker offspring, Jolene was certain that her mother-in-law was going to make her pay when they returned. But much like when she was a teenager, Jolene would gladly deal with the consequences later in lieu of a good time now. Especially since Opie had managed to convince his currently child-free wife to join him on the run as well. This would be Donna's first road trip with her old man and BFF since her wedding in Reno.

Jolene was determined to enjoy the weekend, in spite of the potential threat posed by Agent Stahl. The fact that Stahl was still in Charming weeks after their verbal showdown told Jolene that the information she had against the Fed had not been enough to scare her away. She may have backed away from using Jolene against her old man and her family, but her presence indicated that Stahl was just looking for another angle from which to hit the Club. Having come to this realization fairly soon after their confrontation, Jolene was still struggling with the troublesome thought that maybe she should just come clean to Jax. After all, full disclosure worked both ways and, right now, the Club was operating at a disadvantage without the knowledge she had regarding Stahl. Jolene had seen the information Juice had been able to gather for Jax regarding the Fed and it was nowhere near as explosive as the shit she had.

Jolene was suddenly jolted from her thoughts as the entire convoy of bikes and two cargo vans pulled into the lot of the Reno charter Clubhouse.

The Clubhouse was located in Storey County, Nevada, about 25 miles east of Reno. Located on a three-acre parcel of land, the Clubhouse was not merely the meeting place for the Sons of the Reno charter, but it was also their primary seat of business and housed their legal prostitution enterprise.

The brothel, simply known as the Clubhouse among the locals, was half a mile off the highway and five miles away from the town of Virginia City. It was a former ranch that had gone belly up in the early 1990s. Finding out that it was scheduled to go up for auction, the charter's President, Zeus Esparza had approached Clay about expanding the Club's business prospects in Nevada. With prostitution legal in several counties surrounding Reno, Clay approved Zeus's business plan. But since most locals had voiced concerns over letting the MC own land in their county, the Reno charter was forced to use a dummy corporation set up by Rosen to buy the entire property, which they ended up getting dirt cheap. Zeus and his VP Gizmo Hobbs took their plans for expansion and ran with them, making the Clubhouse the first stop for high quality pussy when heading to Reno. Clay's gamble on the relatively young Prez had paid off and the Reno charter's prostitution business tripled its—as well as SAMCRO's—earnings in the first year of operation alone.

To make the property more attractive, Zeus had a local construction outfit give the exteriors of the main building, as well as its outer buildings a facelift. After gutting the two-story main building, its approximately 14,000 square feet were remodeled and redesigned to provide as many bedrooms and private suites as possible, turning it into an ultra modern but cozy mecca to pussy. Taking the Club's earnings, Zeus purchased on behalf of the MC other smaller venues—strip clubs, roadhouse bars, and gambling dens—in and around Reno. Soon, with the expansion and the huge profits rolling in, the Reno charter became to pussy, booze and gambling what SAMCRO became to gun running: the only ones to go for the best merch.

Clay and Jax were the first off their bikes and were greeted with back-slapping hugs by both Zeus and Gizmo.

"Clay!" Zeus said enthusiastically. "It's been a long time since you came this way, my man! When was the last time you were out here? One, two years ago?"

"About two years." Clay nodded, with a grin.

Because of the trouble caused by his own aching mitts, SAMCRO's Prez rarely visited other charters anymore unless there was trouble brewing. However, Reno had become very lucrative to the MC in recent years and Clay's first visit in a long time was purely celebratory. He was determined to enjoy himself as much as possible, in spite of having his daughter bouncing around. As the VP's old lady, Jolene wasn't his responsibility or his headache. As much as he loved his baby girl, Clay knew from experience that Jax was more than enough to keep her occupied and out of his hair.

"Shit, man, as always, it's good seeing you." Zeus slapped Clay on the back again. "You on the other hand," He said, pulling Jax in for a shoulder bump. "I'm surprised to see. I guess the honeymoon is over, huh, bro?"

Jax smiled sheepishly. "Never, Zeus. I brought my diamond with me."

Zeus and Gizmo both took a simultaneous step back and looked over Jax's shoulder at the lovely young woman sitting on his bike who, after 4-plus hours wearing a helmet, was in the process of shaking her ebony curls back to life. Zeus let out a long, low whistle. The young woman, wearing a pair of sunglasses, a low-cut sexy red tank top, and tight jeans that clung to every curve, looked better than ever.

Zeus shook his head and laughed. "Shit, bro, you have no idea how many hearts you are breakin' tonight."

Although he was sure that the din of the party that had spontaneously broken out upon their arrival didn't allow for voices to carry, Jax was glad that Jolene was out of earshot. She had already heard enough of his rock-bottom days while she had been gone to last a lifetime. Jax was sure the last thing she wanted was a reminder of those times because he sure as hell didn't. He was here to make new memories with his old lady, not relive the painful past.

Clay nodded as he chomped on his cigar. "Yep, there'll be no Reno pussy for him this trip." _And, knowing my baby girl, that fare is permanently off the menu._

Looking at SAMCRO's VP, Zeus had never seen the young man look happier. He remembered the first time he had met Jolene at the epic fight night in Indian Hills so many years ago. How could he forget? Jax had knocked him on his ass with one body shot to the solar plexus. If Jolene had been beautiful then, she was absolutely gorgeous now, even better looking than when Zeus last saw her at her wedding.

Zeus recalled the many drunken conversations he had with Jax over the years after his old lady had left Charming and had disappeared off the grid. He had seen bigger, stronger men lose it over pussy, but all Jolene had left behind was a husk, a shell of the man Jax Teller used to be. Zeus had very little faith that the young man would ever overcome his loss, which made sense because Jax must have been some kind of crazy to let the SAMCRO Princess go, only to end up married to the skank croweater that had worked at one of the Reno charter's strip joints. He was glad that Jax was done exorcising his demons with the endless buffet of cheap women and booze he had feasted on during his trips to Reno. It was obvious that he was a different man now that he was back with his old lady and Zeus was glad for him.

Jolene, who had jumped off the bike and was now leaning against it with her arms crossed, waited, watching as one by one the members of SAMCRO were swallowed up by scantily clad women. The ratio of women to men was totally out of whack, with not one of the women carrying themselves like an old lady would. Jolene mentally slapped her forehead as she realized she'd been dropped smack dab in the middle of Hooker World, an alternate dimension that differed very little from regular club life, except for the scarcity of old ladies.

Donna, Jolene observed with a smile, was firmly pressed up against her man and eyeing the current invasion of women with cold dead eyes. Judging by their reaction, it was obvious that they were receiving Donna's unvoiced death threats loud and clear.

_Yep, I think my padawan's got that shit covered._

Sensing a lull in the conversation among the Club's hierarchy, three nearly naked ho-bags approached Jax. Jolene's back stiffened as she watched all three getting too familiar with their hands all over her old man. Barely taking a moment to glance at any of them, Jax brushed them off. Smiling as he made eye contact with Jolene, he beckoned her over, the three bimbos already a forgotten nuisance as far as he was concerned. Jolene pushed herself away from Jax's bike and walked over to him, and Jax, barely excusing himself to his brothers, met her half way. Pulling her into his side, his arm around her shoulders, Jax lifted her chin with his fingers until her lips were within kissing distance from his. Kissing her softly at first, Jax nipped her bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth and kissing her again, his tongue whipping her into a frenzy.

"It's been almost six hours since I last tasted you." Jax informed her, his voice gravelly and sexy. Judging by the look he was giving her, by "taste" he didn't mean kiss either.

Grinning at all the smut-filled promises in his eyes, Jolene grabbed his hand. Biting his lip, Jax watched as she first kissed and then slowly sucked on his middle finger, moving it in and out of her mouth. Finally pulling it out with a pop, Jolene batted her eyelashes at him.

"So when do I get my turn with SAMCRO's VP?"

Snapping out of the trance that watching her wrap her pink lips around his finger had lulled him into, Jax smiled as he ran his free hand over the hair on his chin. "I might be able to squeeze some time out for you before Church." He offered.

"Do it then," Jolene dared. "Cuz you have no idea what four hours on the back of a rumbling Harley, with you between my legs, has done to me."

Jax flashed her a wolfish grin as he pulled her towards him. _Shit, she always did have a way with words_.

"On second thought, maybe we should wait, darlin'." He teased. "Let you get all worked up, thinking about all the bad things I'm gonna do to you later. How about that?"

"It would piss me off if I believed for a damned second that you would, you fuckin' tease!" Jolene smiled, her hand slowly making its way down to the bulge in his pants, barely concealed by his t- shirt and cut. Not caring who or if anyone was watching, she rubbed him, the friction causing Jax to smile as he grew hard. "See, you're just as horny as I am, so either we do this now, or, with no relief, you're gonna be in a whole lotta pain later. You're not willing to risk a severe case of blue balls later just so that you can get your jollies torturing me now, am I right?"

"You know me so well, darlin'." Jax laughed as he barely stopped her from reaching into his pants. "You need to stop that." He warned good-naturedly as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Ah shit! You're gonna make me beg, aren't you?" Jolene moaned.

"The thought did occur," He smiled as he did a quick scan of his otherwise occupied brothers. "But no. Follow me, baby." Jax grabbed her hand and led her to the Clubhouse.

"Praise the Lord 'cause you men can sure natter on and on and God's knows how long Church'll be tonight." Jolene was practically running to keep up. "I thought I was gonna have to find someone willing to finish what you started." She teased, looking up at Jax with big, innocent eyes when he stopped abruptly and turned to glare at her.

"Take that back." He demanded, doing a piss poor job of coming across as the least bit threatening as he fought to suppress a smile.

"Make me." Jolene sassed him back, her hand on her hip.

Jax was shaking his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, darlin', but you know me. I can never pass up on a challenge." He said and, without warning and as Jolene screeched, Jax bent over and swooped her up.

"Looks like we'll have to postpone Church tonight, huh?" Zeus laughed as he watched Jax practically run into the Clubhouse with his old lady hoisted over his shoulder.

"Nah," Clay said as he shook his head, his unlit cigar hanging from his mouth. "It's early still and they'll come up for air eventually. We'll catch him then."

* * *

Jolene rolled from her side onto her back and reached for her pre-pay that was sitting on the night table next to the bed. Blearily blinking at the readout, she was shocked to discover that she had slept four straight hours.

After their own little "Welcome to Reno" party on the massive bed, Jax had left for Church and Jolene snuggled down to catch up on some sleep, but she hadn't expected to be out for so long.

Jolene slowly rolled up into a sitting position and finally took a good look at their room.

_Pretty fancy digs for a brothel._

The room that had been set aside for use by the SAMCRO VP and his old lady was obviously one of the top of line rooms for the Reno charter's paying customers. Decorated in black and burgundy, the room screamed bordello. It didn't hurt that the room was outfitted with a huge king-sized poster bed that was draped with deep wine curtains. Although Early American Wild West Whorehouse was not her favorite design motif, Jolene had to admit, the mirrored ceiling had been a really nice touch to the newlyweds' sexy afternoon.

"Jax really enjoyed the hell out of that mirror." She snickered to herself as she realized that that could explain why she was so sore after virtually passing out from sheer exhaustion.

Tossing aside the heavy comforter, Jolene got up and ran naked into the similarly decked out bathroom for a quick shower. Pulling out some clean clothes from one of the saddle bags that Jax must have dropped off after she fell asleep, Jolene got dressed and did her hair and make up. She was standing at the mirrored dresser putting on a pair of dangly silver earrings when the door opened to reveal her old man.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Jax smiled, his eyes appreciatively running up and down the length of her body. She was wearing a black fitted halter top and low rise black leather pants, the combination leaving her flat belly and crow tat exposed. "You recovered yet?"

Walking over to Jax, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Oh yeah. After my old man worked me out good and proper, I slept like a baby."

"I know. I came back after Church, but you looked so peaceful I thought I should let you sleep a while longer." Jax paused, his eyes raking over her face. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, baby." Jolene smiled and dropped a peck on his lips. In spite of the amount of skin she was showing, Jolene was convinced that, considering how the Reno charter earned, she was bound to be overdressed tonight.

Jax nodded his head towards the door, which had not closed all the way behind him, letting in raucous party noises. "The party's heating up. I thought we could show our faces for a bit, then come back here and wrap up our own little party."

"Sounds like a plan, Stan." Jolene grinned as she headed for the door. "Let's make it quick."

"Not so fast." Jax gently grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "You're missing something."

Jolene cocked her head and then looked down at herself. "I think I look fine. What's missing?" _Damn it! He's probably gonna say half my outfit_.

"You look fantastic, darlin', but you're missing an important accessory." He smiled at the look on her face.

"Huh?" Jolene asked perplexed, wondering when her tough outlaw hubby had gone all "Queer Eye For the Straight Guy."

Jax sauntered over to his saddle bag and bent over to pull something out. Turning to face her, Jolene's jaw dropped. He was holding her "Property of" back patch.

"Oh my God. You kept it?" Jolene said reverently as she walked towards him.

"Of course I kept it, darlin'. I couldn't get rid of it. It would have been like admitting that we were really through, and I couldn't do that and go on living." He said softly.

That was the first time he had ever said that out loud. He thought about it everyday for four years, but not even his brothers knew how close he'd come to riding his bike off a mountain.

When Jolene left Charming, she not only left behind her engagement ring, but her Property of Jax Teller vest as well. It was the first thing Jax had seen when he came home after Jolene's goodbye at the Clubhouse. She had left it lying on their bed.

In anger, Jax had picked it up and threw it against the wall as he cursed himself. After the reality that she was gone had set in, Jax spent every free moment he had sitting in that darkened bedroom, getting high and drunk until he passed out. Even he could see that one day someone was going to stumble upon his body among his old lady's things. Eventually, Jax hung her back patch in the closet and padlocked the room shut with the rest of Jolene's belongings.

After he had kicked Wendy out and before the cleaning crew came, Gemma had helped Jax pack up the contents of his first home with Jolene before moving into their new house. Jolene had been adamant about not wanting any of her old belongings, insisting that anything worth saving be donated to charity, but Jax held on to the vest, waiting for the right time to give it back to her.

"Do you want to wear it?"

Jolene had to bite back her tears, the thought that he had kept the patch for the same reason she had kept her crow tat overwhelming her. Eyes shining with unshed tears, Jolene nodded.

Jax held it open for her and zipped it up. "There. Now my old lady's perfect."

* * *

The Main Room of the Reno Clubhouse was huge. In fact, it was three times bigger than the mother charter's Main room. It was also a hell of a lot more gaudy, keeping in line with the garish Reno night life and the charter's line of business.

Outfitted with several elevated dance platforms with stripper poles, women of all shapes, sizes and colors competed against other women who were dancing in cages throughout the Club for the attention of—and the hard cash being thrown at them by—Club members and patrons alike. Two large bars occupied opposite sides of the Main Room and were being worked by professional bartenders unaffiliated with the Club who knew how to serve up drinks and get the crowd going. Brisk sales at the bar were helped along by the highly-paid hookers who mingled with patrons when not working in one of the many bedroom suites. There was also a small gambling den filled with slot machines, but which was now hosting a high stakes poker game between SAMCRO and their Reno brethren.

Everyone was having a good time, especially the Charming Sons, who had turned having a good time into a vocation and were partying hearty. That is, all of them except for Jax and Opie, who, when not otherwise occupied, were busy pawing their wives.

With Jolene by his side, Jax made the rounds to properly show off his old lady. While his brothers knew who she was by name or face, the majority of patrons were outsiders, clueless to the intricacies of MC life. Because of those drunk and pervy bastards, Jax took the time to draw attention to the fact that Jolene was his exclusive property and not some Club hang-around or working girl. He would make the introduction only once. Those with short-term memory loss or otherwise unable to read her back patch ran the risk of picking their teeth up off the floor should they step out of line with his old lady.

Giving her man one last long and sloppy kiss before Zeus and Gizmo pulled his ass away and into a conversation, Jolene, finally set free, went in search of her BFF, who she was sure was still pretty much stuck to Opie like glue. Before Jolene knew what hit her, Donna was running towards her and wrapping her arms around her in a big hug.

"Okay, I know I told you that the whole property patch thing was a little too much macho nonsense for me, but I think I'm ready to demand that Opie get me one." She exclaimed. "Did you know we are spending the weekend in a BROTHEL?" Donna was incredulous.

Jolene laughed. She loved Sasquatch, but he could certainly stand to learn a few things from her old man regarding full disclosure. "Ope, I'm gonna kill ya." She muttered under her breath.

"What?" Donna asked, not hearing her friend over the loud music and catcalls directed at the dancers not 100 feet from where they stood.

"I said, stick with me and you'll be fine." Jolene lied. "Let's go get a beer and find a quiet corner to talk."

"Good, maybe then you can finally fill me in on the missing deets regarding your time in the pokey." Donna waved at her husband, who seeing that she was in Jolene's company, waved her off.

"Who says 'pokey' anymore?" Jolene teased as they headed towards the bar.

The two women tried in vain to find a quiet corner, but they were surrounded by crazy, amped up Friday night madness in the Clubhouse. Finally deciding to drag Donna back to her room, Jolene grabbed a bottle of Patron from one of the bartenders, along with some glasses and a couple of beers, and left the Main Room.

Walking into her best friend's bedroom and seeing the disheveled bed, Donna snorted. "I guess I know why you two were M.I.A. for most of the day."

Jolene smirked as she collapsed on the unmade bed. "Hey, just putting a little something on him so he remembers how to act in this pussy factory."

Sitting next to Jolene on the bed, Donna dove right in. "Well, girl, give me the 4-1-1. I've been working so much overtime with Oswald to lock down that new deal he had cooking in Stockton, we haven't had much time to touch base and men are never as good in relating all the drama."

Jolene told Donna as much as she had told Jax and his brothers. Whistling under her breath, Donna asked. "Shit, Jo. How did your Principal take having you dragged out of the school by Feds? Opie said you won't be working this Summer. Does that mean you're out of a job?"

"Nah, I decided to take the Summer off." Jolene explained, patting Donna's hand. She was lucky to have friends and family who cared so much about her well-being. "Besides, Petersen more or less knew what he was bargaining for when he hired me. Everyone knows about my connection to SAMCRO. I guess my only saving grace was that the bitch didn't slap the cuffs on me until after we walked out of the school. Petersen was definitely more understanding than I thought he would be, although I'm up Shit's Creek if Stahl pulls another stunt like that again, but hopefully, she'll be gone by September."

"Picking you up at work. Holding you overnight. Sounds like that ATF skank really has it out for you." Donna commiserated, shaking her head.

"She can try, but I can handle my mud and since she doesn't have shit on me, I think I'm safe."

_I hope._

"I don't know, Jo. I wouldn't write her off as completely harmless, if I were you."

Seeing the concerned expression on her BFF's face, Jolene's eyes narrowed to little slits. "Is there something I don't know that you're not telling me?"

"No, it's nothing like that. It's just after hearing how the nut job went off the rails and destroyed the interrogation room, she just has me a little worried, that's all." Donna explained. Seeing Jolene's shocked face, Donna winced. "Aw, shit! You didn't know about that, did you? Ope's gonna kill me."

"D, you have to explain to me what the hell you're talking about." Jolene demanded. Reluctantly, Donna repeated her conversation with Opie, who had heard about the incident along with Jax and the rest of the Club as related by Chief Unser.

Miserably, Donna stared at her sister from another mister as she saw Jolene's face darken with anger. "Look, don't have a cow, okay? Maybe Jax didn't think it was important enough to bother you about it."

"That ATF bitch goes bat shit crazy after interrogating me for eighteen hours, destroying an entire room during the process, and that's not significant?" Jolene retorted.

"Well, girl, she was dealing with _you_. Actually, when you think about it, her reaction sounds pretty reasonable to me." Donna replied, hoping to bring a little humor to the situation. Only Jolene wasn't laughing.

After reading the numerous reports regarding Stahl's true past, Jolene was pretty sure that she was dealing with a seriously unbalanced sociopath. But it was one thing to read about such rage-induced behavior and another thing entirely to know that it was directed at you.

Suddenly, hit with all of the possible ramifications as she realized that Stahl might be a little too much for her to deal with, Jolene sighed as she reached for the bottle of Patron.

"I need a drink." She moaned, pouring a shot each for her and Donna.

_And wait 'til I get a hold of Jackson! He better have a pretty damn good excuse for not telling me about Stahl's hissy fit_, Jolene thought as she was about to down her shot.

However, as the shot glass got closer to her mouth and nose, Jolene started to feel queasy as her stomach started to roil around in mutiny. Donna's eyes narrowed as she saw her best friend suddenly turn green and then ghost-white.

"Jo, what's wrong?" She asked, alarmed.

Suddenly, Jolene dropped the shot glass on the night table and flew to the bathroom, with Donna hot on her heels. Barely making it to the toilet, Jolene collapsed next to it and proceeded to bring up the contents of her stomach, while Donna did her best to hold her hair away from her face and out of the way of the spray.

Finally, Jolene's stomach shuddered for the last time and lay still.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Donna asked, unnerved.

"I haven't a freakin' clue." Jolene said weakly, wiping her suddenly sweaty brow with the back of her hand.

Donna shook her head and stooped down to help up her ailing friend. Although petite, she was quite strong and quickly managed to get Jolene off the bathroom floor and settled into bed with several pillows propping her up.

"Damn, D, it's a good thing you were here." Jolene said, almost out of breath. "I can't believe how weak I feel right now. I don't think I could have made it to the bed all by myself."

Donna sat next to her friend and wiped her face with a damp cloth, eyeing her thoughtfully. "Tell me, how have your eating habits been lately?" She inquired.

Jolene shrugged her shoulders. "I guess they've been a little off."

"Define 'off', my dear."

"Well, I've been eating everything _and_ the kitchen sink lately."

"Girl, you know you've always had a pretty outstanding appetite." Donna teased.

"Yeah, but I've been doing a whole lot of snacking, in between meals and during work. That's not my usual thing." Jolene countered.

"Uh huh." Donna put down the washcloth on the nightstand table. "Jo, I've known you forever and I've never seen tequila make you throw up _before_ you drank it." She snarked.

The color seemed to be coming back in Jolene's face. Waving her hand, she dismissed her bout of nausea. "Look, life's been pretty hectic since Jax got out—the wedding, the house, work. I've been exhausted lately, so it's probably just my nervous system that's out of whack, that's all."

"Girl, I never had you pegged as naïve." Donna smiled.

"I'm dying and you're smiling." Jolene kidded.

"You're not dying, Jo, but let me ask you this and don't flip out on me, all right?"

Jolene nodded.

"When was your last period?"

"_My last period_?" Jolene asked exasperated. "Oh please, D. I am _so_ not pregnant. Why I just had it—"

Donna's smile broadened. "Had it when?"

"I, uh, I had it—" Jolene's mind raced trying to search for the information, but her brain was having a difficult time making the connection. Jolene suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, her wide green eyes barely focusing on a gleeful Donna. "Holy shit! That's not possible! He couldn't have knocked me up already!"

Shortly before they married, Jax had convinced Jolene to stop using birth control. It had been a big decision simply because Jolene had just started working again, but with Abel growing up so quickly, her old man wanted him to have some siblings sooner rather than later, so she had agreed. It just never occurred to her that he could possibly get it done so damn soon!

Pulling her hand away from her mouth, Jolene gasped, "It's been six weeks!"

"Aww shit!" Donna screamed and wrapped her arms around a stunned Jolene. "Girl, its official! You are one knocked up bitch!"


	8. Bike Rally

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**A/N: Just a special shout out to First Lady Lestat and JTellersOldLady for their concern regarding fanfic's accouncement on their home page about the rating issue. I have read (and re-read) their statement. I think that it's just a warning. I don't get the impression that they are going to actively purge stories so I just intend to fly under the radar until I get caught! I have no intention of voluntarily removing my stories or changing the content. Considering some of the fiction I have read on this site, I'm pretty tame. However, I am actively searching for another site to post my stories on the odd chance that I get busted. Any suggestions on where to go would be great!**

**As always, the more love hits I get, the better I feel! Enjoy!**

* * *

Sitting on the bed, Jolene still looked shell-shocked as she examined the double pink lines of the pregnancy test.

Earlier, bubbling with excitement, Donna had used her old lady status to wheedle one of SAMCRO's Prospects into running her into town to find a pharmacy. Grinding his teeth, Half Sack obliged, letting go of the prime piece of ass that had been in the process of leading him to one of the bedrooms by his one-nutted dick. With Donna having purchased several pregnancy tests, they had managed to make it back to the Clubhouse in record time. Unfortunately for Half Sack, his bit of fluff had already been snatched up by Tig. Donna cringed as she saw the young man search the Main Room in vain for the little tart knowing that, if he ever patched in, Kip was going to make her pay for ruining his fun.

Now, leaning against the doorjamb leading into the bathroom, Donna smiled tenderly, seeing the soft warm glow in Jolene's eyes as she laid her hand on her flat stomach and caressed it gently.

At that moment, Jolene was blind to her surroundings, all her thoughts and energies centered on the little being growing inside of her. Although not unexpected as she and Jax had been actively trying to have another baby, it was nonetheless taking Jolene a moment to process the news. Four year ago, as she prayed and hoped for her dying baby to get better, she never would have dared guess that this is what destiny had in store for her. Jolene felt like crying, but after all the crying she had done during her first pregnancy and after Abel's birth, she had come to associate tears with sorrow and hurt. News of the life she was now carrying, the one she had created with the only man she would ever love, didn't deserve tears anymore than Abel had. Even though there was no guarantee that, under different circumstances, Abel would have been born healthy, Jolene was still struggling to forgive herself for leaving Charming when and how she had.

_This pregnancy and this baby will be different_, Jolene promised herself and the little bit of Jax in her belly.

Smiling a 1,000-watt smile, Jolene burrowed under the covers that Donna had thrown over her just before she had left. Her life was about to change again and she couldn't wait to share the news with the love of her life.

* * *

It was a little past midnight by the time Jax was able to extract himself from one discussion after another with his brothers. Each conversation he'd had that night had started the same way, with his brothers slapping him soundly on the back of his cut, telling him they were happy to see the old Jax Teller back. Jax had smiled, each time noticing that the reason he was back and in fighting form had gone AWOL. Sensing his brother's separation anxiety, Opie told Jax that he had last seen Donna, Jolene, and a bottle of Patron heading back to the room he shared with Jo. Jax decided it was his cue to bow out and call it a night when he later saw Donna perched on her old man's lap.

Propositioned first by a leggy blonde and then by a busty redhead as he swaggered across the Clubhouse towards the hallway leading to the bedroom suites on the first floor, Jax smiled to himself, realizing that he wasn't tempted. Not even a little bit, especially since he could find more than just amazing sex in the arms of his old lady.

_That woman gives "good lovin'" a whole different meaning_, Jax thought to himself as he entered the gaudy as shit bedroom they had been relegated to.

Except for the soft golden glow coming from two sconces on either side of the bed, the room was dim. Jax could barely make out the silhouette of his old lady, who was practically lost in the middle of the bed underneath a pile of dark and heavy bedding. Removing his cut and throwing it on the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed, Jax quickly shed his clothes and soundlessly slipped into bed.

Jax smiled as Jolene, feeling the familiar dip of the bed in her sleep, rolled over. "Hey, baby." Jolene murmured softly as she burrowed her face into his neck, still fast asleep.

Pulling himself back slightly, Jax smiled down at Jolene, now comfortably nestled in his arms. Sweeping her loose curls away from her face, he frowned slightly as he noticed faint shadows underneath her eyes.

_My old lady needs a serious vacation._

Although the shit storm the ATF had managed to whip up had happened two weeks ago, Jax was a little glad that the stress may have proved too much, a happy by-product being that he was able to convince Jolene to take the summer off. Jax had been hoping that the run to Reno would get Jolene to relax a bit, and so far it had, but it was clear that something was weighing heavy on her.

Thinking about kissing her, he let his thumb tenderly graze her lips. She looked so peaceful and content in his arms it was almost tempting to just let her sleep.

_Almost_.

Hearing her moan softly, Jax gave in and decided to give his old lady a reason to keep moaning.

"Hey, darlin'." Jax kissed one of her eyelids, provoking a small smile from Jolene as the whiskers on his chin tickled her nose.

Bringing his lips to hers, he continued giving her soft pecks until she started responding, her bright green eyes fluttering open. With her hand now cupping one side of his face, Jolene returned his kisses as they grew with intensity. Rolling Jolene onto her back, Jax continued kissing her, barely keeping himself from grinning as he realized that his old lady had been naked and waiting for him.

Fully awake now, Jolene was purring softly as Jax moved to her neck and sucked bruises into her tender skin, all the while coaxing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Their breathing quickened as he moved his hips against hers, causing her to groan. Lifting his face to hers, Jax smiled as she whispered her need to feel him inside her.

Taking it slow, knowing that he was the cause of some of her exhaustion, Jax pushed himself into her. Alternating circling his hips and thrusting into her, he felt his balls tighten at the sounds she was making. Bringing his mouth back to hers, Jax swallowed those soft cries as Jolene managed to kick the comforter off of them and onto the floor. Looking up into the mirror above the bed, Jolene was mesmerized by the masculine beauty of his hard body as he made love to her, every muscle on his back and buttocks flexing as they moved in a quiet rhythm.

_He's being exceptionally tender_, Jolene thought as she held his face in her hands. _Almost like he already knows about our precious cargo_.

Jax was looking down at his beautiful wife as he continued to move inside her, desperately fighting the need to pound into her. He wanted to love her slow, to prolong this moment in time between them for as long as he could. The way she was looking at him, her expressive eyes wide and brimming with the love she had for him, was almost humbling. How could someone like him—an outlaw, a man of mayhem with blood on his hands—ever deserve to be loved so wholly by someone like her?

Suddenly, her body was vibrating beneath his with tiny shudders. Fighting to hold himself back, Jax watched the woman he loved flush, losing the battle to keep her eyes open as she came for him.

"Oh God. Oh my God." She was panting as she slowly came down. "I love you, Jackson."

Jax smiled, quickening his pace and about to jokingly remind her of their "no-I-love-yous-during-sex" rule, but the sudden tears in her eyes stopped him.

"Don't stop, baby." Lifting herself up to kiss him, Jolene dug her fingernails into the skin on his ass as she bucked against him. Losing control over the animal within seeking release, Jax gripped her hips, his face buried in her vanilla-scented hair, and let himself explode.

Lying half on the bed and half on Jolene, Jax gently nudged her face towards him.

"You okay, babe?"

Jolene swallowed hard. "Never better. That was an awesome way to wake up." She smiled.

"You know me, darlin'. I always aim to please." He replied with a self-satisfied grin.

"I know." Jolene said, her fingers gently caressing his arm draped over her. "Sometimes I think I don't deserve you." Jax quirked an eyebrow at her, slightly taken by surprise that she had just mimicked his own thoughts from earlier. Jax was about to ask her to elaborate when she cut loose with a massive yawn that ended with a squeak. She looked exhausted and he wasn't helping.

"Come here, darlin'." Jax lay back against a pile of pillows and pulled her into his arms, settling her on his chest. "You wanna join the rally tomorrow, you really need to get some sleep. You've been burning the candle at both ends lately with school and then that ATF shit hitting you sideways, it's no wonder you're exhausted."

Re-energized, Jolene rolled onto Jax, straddling him and taking him by surprise. She thought she could wait until they got home, but she was about to burst if she didn't tell him.

"Actually, I think there's another reason why I've been so tired lately." She said a little anxiously, and then bit her bottom lip.

Jax suddenly tensed. "I fuckin' knew it, Jo." Sitting up so that she was on his lap with her legs wrapped around him, he stared intently into her wide, startled eyes. "I knew something was wrong. You're sick, aren't you? Shit! As soon as we get back, I'm taking you to St. Thomas for a check up."

Jolene quickly cupped Jax's face in her hands. "Whoa, relax, baby. I'm okay, really." Jax watched, his brow furrowed as Jolene reached over him. Opening the drawer, she pulled out a plastic purple and white stick. Smiling, she flipped it over to reveal the double-pink lines in the center. "It's nothing that another seven months won't cure."

It took Jax a minute to process what he was seeing and what Jolene had said. But when it finally registered, Jolene knew that if she lived to be a 100, she would never forget the look of stunned wonder on her love's face.

"Shit, baby . . . You're . . ." Jax couldn't even finish the sentence.

Nodding emphatically and with sudden, uncontrollable tears running down her face, Jolene wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yep and I must say, Teller, I'm quite impressed that you managed to knock me up again so quickly."

Sinking his hands into her mass of dark hair, Jax brought his mouth to hers with stunning force. Pulling away from their kiss, Jolene's heart constricted in her chest when she saw the tears in his eyes.

"Oh God, Jax," Jolene started as she ran her hands through his hair. Jax's hands were on her waist, his thumbs grazing her belly. Even though his eyes were now downcast, Jolene could see a hint of a smile on his lips. "I love you so much." She whispered.

Jolene yelped and started giggling as she found herself on her back with Jax trailing soft, tender kisses down her neck, over her torso, until reaching her still-flat stomach. After kissing her taut golden skin, Jax gently laid his head against her belly button, his eyes closed and a smile still playing on his lips.

"I love you so much more, darlin'."

* * *

Some time after dawn, Jolene awoke pinned to the bed with Jax's arm possessively draped across her waist and one hairy, muscled leg over one of hers and entwined with the other. Jolene smiled as she quietly struggled to untangle herself from her husband's embrace, only to succeed in waking him up.

"Where you going?" Jax mumbled into her shoulder, not bothering to open his eyes and his arm tightening around her waist.

"Nowhere, I guess." Jolene kissed the tip of his nose. "I have to warn you though, you might feel something warm and wet in this bed real soon."

Jax's eyes flew open. "I've got news for ya, darlin'. There's was plenty of warm and wet in this bed last night." He gave her a sexy smirk that made her insides go squish and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Go take a piss." Jax said, as he unwound himself from her. Jolene sat on the edge of the bed and watched as he pulled her pillow against his chest and snuggled down again. She smiled as in less than a minute she could hear him snoring lightly.

Jolene marveled at how bone tired she felt even after all of the sleep she had managed to get since arriving in Reno the day before. Jolene rubbed her eyes in an effort to keep them from closing, fighting the urge to let herself fall back into bed. An early riser by nature, Jolene was accustomed to being constantly on the go. Fatigue was one pregnancy side effect she could do without, especially with an extremely active toddler _and_ old man to take care of. Yawning, Jolene pushed herself up from the bed, only to suddenly feel her legs give way. Falling onto the bed again, Jolene felt herself flush and break out into a cold sweat. With a shaky hand fluttering over the faint scar on her chest, Jolene took deep breaths as she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart.

"Shit." She mumbled to herself as she turned to make sure she had not disturbed Jax. Finding him still fast asleep, Jolene sat on the bed quietly until she started to feel normal again.

Although every pregnancy was different, Jolene knew her body well enough to know that while nausea and dizziness were normal, especially in the early stages, flop sweat and arrhythmia wasn't. She could kick herself now, but she had been so busy and so eager to move on with her life with Jax and Abel that she had failed to take the advice Dr. Steinman had given her after Abel was born. She probably should have seen a doctor first before taking herself off of birth control and other meds. Jolene pushed herself off the bed again and onto her bare feet, managing to stay upright this time around. Making her way to the bathroom, Jolene promised herself to make an appointment to see Dr. Negron, the heart specialist that had saved her life after the shooting, as soon as she saw an OB/GYN and confirmed that all was right with her baby.

After taking a shower, which she had not meant to do if not for her stomach unexpectedly rebelling against her while brushing her teeth, Jolene sat cross-legged on her side of the bed towel drying her hair. Jax was still sleeping soundly and Jolene loved watching him at moments like this. Although Jax was normally quite easy-going, underneath his laid-back California good looks, Jax was wound tight. He was always prepared to spring into action in a fraction of a second, a by-product of the life he lived. Only when he was asleep did his features soften and relax enough that Jolene caught glimpses of the teenage boy she had fallen in love with when she was ten.

Seeing Jax pout slightly in his sleep reminded Jolene of the look of concentration on fourteen year old Jax's face as he and Ope taught her how to skim rocks across the pond near Piney's cabin. As great as those early days growing up in Charming had been, Jolene wouldn't trade what she had now for the world. Only thing she really missed was the wide-eyed innocence of those days, which she had happily and voluntarily given up the day she became Jax Teller's old lady so many years ago.

Whipping her head up, Jolene's eyes fell on her back patch hanging from the back of the vanity chair across the room. She had made a promise of loyalty and respect not only to her old man, but to the entire Club the day she had accepted Jax's patch. And she reaffirmed that promise last night when Jax gave it back to her. Yet here she was, keeping secrets from Jax and his brothers out of fear of what they might think of her, the SAMCRO Princess, if they knew.

Now, with Stahl and Company hunkering down in Charming indefinitely, Jolene was starting to realize that keeping her secrets hidden may not be the best idea. The events that had unfolded as a result of her time in Seattle, when she was seventeen and as recent as last year, had the potential to blow back and destroy the only family she had ever known.

In spite of her fears, there was no way around it. The fact remained that Jax needed to know the details of what had happened in Seattle, but that could only happen after she spoke to her father first. She didn't know the details about Pretty Ricky's disappearance—she had been smart enough back then to know not to ask questions—but she knew the reactive nut job her father could be. She remembered Clay claiming having gone to Seattle with Scott Rosen in order to finalize the transfer of custody from Valentina back to him.

She may not be a patch, but she knew her father and the men he called brothers extremely well. Family protects their own and, if that failed, then retaliation was the only option. But Jolene had made her father promise to keep her secret and, as a man of honor, she had tied his hands and kept him from asking his brothers for help in dealing with Pretty Ricky. Now, it had the potential to blow back on the Club and they didn't even know about it and Clay was just as clueless about Stahl using it as ammunition. It hurt Jolene to finally realize that her stubborn pride was at the root of SAMCRO's current problems with the ATF, but she couldn't out her father to his own Club without warning him first.

There was also now the new baby to take into consideration. Her first pregnancy had really taken its toll on her. She had never given Jax the extensive and gory details of just how bad it had been and now, with the threat of the ATF hanging over the Club causing her stress, the possibility that this pregnancy could be worse was that much greater.

Looking tenderly at Jax once more, Jolene hurriedly wiped away errant tears from her cheeks. The love of her life, the father of her babies, would die for her. She knew this like she knew she needed air in her lungs to breathe. She trusted him with her life, but now she needed to prove to herself that she trusted him enough to bare her soul to him as well.

* * *

Idlewild Park was a beautiful open space just west of downtown Reno. The park hugged a curve along the south bank of the Truckee River and had large expanses of grass with trees and two picnic areas. The park was bordered by a bend in the Truckee River on the north and east, and Idlewild Drive on the south. Marking the west edge was Latimore Drive, which was also an entrance into that end of the park and a prime location for the Sons of Anarchy Reno Bike Rally. Although this was the rally's fifth year, it was the first time that SAMCRO was co-sponsoring the event, with proceeds from the bike race registration fees and the sale of t-shirts, food, and beer going to several families of currently incarcerated Sons.

It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon and after taking her turn with other old ladies selling hot dogs cooked up by the Prospects, Jolene grabbed an ice cold bottle of water and went in search of some familiar faces. In spite of it being much hotter than she was used to back home, the sun and desert heat felt good on Jolene's bare limbs as she sported a black Harley-Davidson tank top and white shorts.

Even though this wasn't her first time attending an event like this, it was her first one outside of Charming as Jax Teller's old lady, and the difference between this and last night's party couldn't be more glaring. The rally was more family-oriented with old ladies and children outnumbering the bikers at least 5 to 1. Along with SAMCRO and Reno, there were several other friendly MCs in attendance, including the Grim Bastards, who had made the trip out from Lodi to show support for the mother charter. As far as Jolene could tell, there wasn't a croweater, sweetbutt, or hooker in sight.

Spotting a somewhat familiar—and in no way friendly—face, Jolene felt she may have proclaimed the bike rally a ho-free zone too soon as she saw Wendy Case wandering around aimlessly with a beer in hand. With her entourage of croweaters left behind in Charming, Wendy looked sorely out of place sporting an outfit more suitable for a strip club then a park where children were present.

Continuing her search for her family, Jolene was heading towards a cluster of bikers, including Reno's president when she felt a stinging and resounding smack on her ass.

"OWW!" Jolene complained, her hand grabbing onto her aching butt cheek as she prepared to cut a strip off of her old man for being so heavy handed. However, as she spun around, the words died in her mouth of shock as she realized she wasn't facing Jax, but the middle-aged biker she recognized as Huff Kagen.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't know it was you." Huff apologized half-heartedly as he knew exactly on whose round, plump ass he had laid a smarting on. "I thought you were one of the Reno charter's working girls." He knowingly smiled.

Jolene's wide eyes doubled in size as the older man added insult to injury. A patch was a patch no matter how big a dick he was, so Jolene bit into her already-numb tongue to keep herself from telling Huff to fuck off on the whore he rode in on.

Huff was fighting the urge to laugh his ass off. He could see the internal struggle play out on the stuck up little bitch's pretty face as she fought to keep herself from chewing him out. Stepping back a little, Huff didn't try to hide the fact that he was openly appraising her body from head to toe. Truth was, the SAMCRO VP had splendid taste in women and, if Wendy was anything to go by, Huff wouldn't mind tapping more than just Jolene Teller's ass.

"Mmm, mmm! You are one tight little package." Huff practically licked his lips. "Too bad I never made it up this way when you first returned to Charming, huh, before your old man got out of Chino. We could have had some fun exercising that prison clause."

Jolene's nostrils flared a little. "Only if you're into fuckin' corpses." She challenged through clenched teeth.

Huff suddenly threw his head back and laughed. "Cold packing? Oh you sweet thing! If you only knew and I have the patch to prove it, too!"

As Huff continued laughing, Jolene stood rooted to the spot. Coiled so tight was her anger and rage that she was virtually shaking. She couldn't recall another time when a patch had ever spoken to her like this asshole she barely knew had.

Huff was tired of his old lady's nagging about her ill treatment by the mother charter since their arrival. Constantly berating him to take a stand for her. Well, while he had to tread carefully with his brothers so as to not jeopardize the gun running deal between charters, he had assured Wendy that he was just as good at these passive-aggressive pissing contests as the SAMCRO VP. Turn around was fair play when it came to disrespecting old ladies. Jax Teller could work his influence within the mother charter to shun Wendy by making her feel unwelcomed in their shitty little town, but he had just reduced the SAMCRO Princess into nothing more than a Club whore.

Unfortunately, Huff had been drinking since their arrival in Reno the night before, taking a small break as he passed out face first into the crotch of a hooker he was sharing with Wendy, only to resume his alcohol consumption as soon as they arrived at the rally this morning. Still buzzed, Huff quickly came down from his liquor-fueled cloud of self-righteousness. He realized just a tad too late that, even though he had not yet aired his grievances regarding Jax Teller's treatment of Wendy to the man himself, there was probably nothing he could say that would keep Jolene from repeating their conversation to her old man.

_And judging from the self-satisfied smirk on her face_, Huff concluded, _the bitch is probably thinking the same thing_.

"Listen, Jolene. No harm meant. I was just kidding around—." Huff started by way of an apology, only to have Jolene interrupt.

"_Don't_ apologize." Jolene smiled prettily. No one watching from a distance would be able to detect that there was a dangerous edge to her voice. "Can't really blame you if you lack the experience to know what a _real_ old lady looks like."

Huff's eyes were flashing angrily at the young woman when Jax, finally spotting his old lady from clear across the park, made his way to her side.

"Hey, darlin'," Jax smiled, kissing Jolene on the temple as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "You've been too busy with work to drop by the Clubhouse that haven't had the chance to introduce you to Huff yet." He said, not quite sure why his old lady _would_ want to talk to Huff.

Jolene shook her head. "No need, baby. Huff and I already met, at our wedding, remember?" She looked up at Jax as he nodded in agreement, even though all he really remembered was how beautiful she looked that day. "I was just reintroducing myself because Huff doesn't seem to remember us meeting before either and he just mistook me for one of the Clubhouse's hookers." She replied, her eyes flashing green sparks right back at the SAMTAZ VP.

Jolene could tell from the look on his face that Huff hadn't expected her to tell Jax, at least not while he was still standing in front of her. Feeling Jax's arm stiffen around her, Jolene looked up at her old man and found him glaring daggers at Huff as he dropped all pretenses of polite conversation.

"Is that right?" Jax said through a clenched jaw, his mind racing through at least half a dozen ways he was going to kill Huff Kagen if he had laid a finger on his wife. "Go on and find Donna, Jo. I have to talk to Huff."

Stroking his chest through the t-shirt underneath his cut, Jolene inched her hand up to Jax's chin. Gently pulling him by his whiskers until he tore his death glare away from Huff, forcing him to make eye contact with her instead, Jolene smiled as she shook her head slightly. "It's okay, baby. I was just telling him that he most definitely had me confused with your _first_ wife."

Jax's mouth twitched at the corners. He would have smiled, but he was still too pissed and feeling the itch to throw a punch burning in his hands.

"Come on," Jolene gently coaxed Jax. "I'm hungry. Lead me to some food that doesn't come in a bun."

Looking down at his old lady as she absently rubbed her belly, Jax finally allowed himself to smile. "Cheater." He almost whispered as he bent low enough for Jolene to jump on his back. With his wife now riding piggy back, Jax turned to Huff and pointed a ringed finger at him. "Later."

* * *

To say that Jax Teller treated his old lady like spun glass the morning they left Reno was an understatement. Normally, Jolene would shamelessly wallow in such adoration, but she knew her old man well enough to know that Jax was already toeing the fine line between caring husband and over-protective nutter. She couldn't really blame him, though. Considering that he had been deprived of the right to be there for her when she was pregnant with Abel, it could be worse. She was lucky to have a man that cared so much about her and to whom family meant everything.

The fact was, aside from the buzzkill that was her conversation with Huff at the rally, Jolene had been walking on clouds herself after sharing the news with Jax. The young couple literally glowed as they sat in the Main Room of the Reno Clubhouse eating breakfast. Bobby, sensing a hint of giddiness between the pair, decided that it might be best not to question it. Like Clay, the less Bobby knew about Kit's sex life the better as it didn't take a genius to figure out that the newlyweds had probably spent a major part of the weekend connected at the hips. Sitting across from the pair at one of the tables, Bobby watched his goddaughter wolf down what could only be described as a trucker-sized meal of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes.

"Gawd, Kit. Did you leave anything at the buffet?" Bobby teased as he finished the last of his coffee.

Jolene took a gulp of her orange juice and smiled cheekily. "Hey, first come, first serve." She shrugged her slight shoulders and dug back into her meal.

"Don't tease her, bro. She needs to put a few meals under her belt." Jax replied. Pushing his own wiped clean plate away, Jax was about to light a cigarette, quickly changed his mind and put the pack away.

"Yeah, I'm sure she could use the energy." Bobby smirked. "I'm getting me another cup of coffee. Let me get you one to wash that down with."

As Bobby stood up, both Jax and Jolene almost yelled, "No!"

As Bobby arched an eyebrow, Jolene hastily replied. "I'm good with just the o. j., Uncle Elvis."

"No problem." Bobby headed over to refill his cup. "You better finish up, Kit. Per your Dad, we're leaving in thirty."

* * *

Opie looked up as his best friend slapped him on the shoulder. The quiet giant of SAMCRO was the only Son from the mother charter currently packing up his bike for the trip back. Jax had been hoping to find a minute alone to drop the good news on his best friend without anyone overhearing and had finally seen his chance.

"Hey bro, you about ready? Clay wants to hit the road soon." Opie said, accepting one of Jax's proffered cigarettes.

"Yeah, man. I'm good, but I wanna ask a favor of you." Jax said, thoroughly enjoying his first drag from his first cigarette of the day as he refused to smoke around Jolene.

"Sure. What's up?" Opie leaned against his bike and crossed his arms.

"I want Donna to ride back in the cargo van with Jolene and Half Sack." Jax replied unable to keep himself from grinning.

"Oh, come on Jax. Private One Nut has one ball and it's a big one, but he ain't that stupid to try to make a move on your old lady—" Opie started.

"That ain't it, bro. I already put the fear of God into that boy. I have no worries in that department."

"Then what is it?"

"Well, since the newest member of the next SAMCRO generation has taken up residence in her belly, I can't let my old lady ride bitch for over four hours, man." Jax said nonchalantly as he flicked the ashes from his cigarette.

Opie's eyes slowly widened as each word registered. "Are you shitting me?" He roared as he wrapped his arms around Jax and practically lifted him in the air. "You lucky son of a whore!"

"Don't I know it." Jax grinned fiercely.

"Congratulations, bro. Babies are a beautiful thing." Opie said nostalgically, still smiling like a mental patient. "Shit, you ain't been married what two months?"

"We're coming up on three."

"Damn, that's sure some potent shit you got."

"Yeah, well, either that or practice makes perfect." Jax replied cockily. "But here's the thing. It's early days yet and Jolene doesn't want to tell Abel or our parents. At least not until she's got official confirmation and all that happy shit, so I need you to keep this on the down low."

"I don't know, man. How am I _not_ gonna tell Donna?

"She already knows. Jolene swore her to secrecy, too."

"You fuckin' kidding me? My old lady of seven years knew and didn't say shit to me?"

"Don't get too mad at her, bro, after all this is Jolene we're talking about. She can be quite convincing and you know our two old ladies. Best friends forever. One would die for the other, so you can best believe that when one orders the other to keep her mouth shut, she's gonna do it. Unlike some dime dropping motherfuckers I know."

"Hey, as _your_ best friend, I still think I'm entitled to the unedited version of your Oakland hook-up with Jolene." Opie laughed. "So, how do you feel about being a daddy twice over?"

Jax simply looked at his best friend and smiled.

"That good, huh?"

"Yeah, that good. Can you imagine, me with another son?" Jax seemed awestruck by the thought.

"Uh, no brother. Actually, I can't. In fact, I hope it's a girl." Opie snarked as he headed towards the Clubhouse to pick a bone with his wife. "God knows you've had it coming!"

* * *

With the convoy of bikes and cargo vans winding its way along the I-80 West, the ride back to Charming had been pretty uneventful for the first three hours of the journey.

Instead of riding back with her old man, Jolene found herself sandwiched between her best friend and Half Sack as Donna goaded the Prospect into telling off-colored stories of his tour in Iraq. Even though Jolene was feeling fine enough to ride, Jax had found an all too willing conspirator in Donna. Although happy for her best friend, Donna knew probably more about Jolene's difficult first pregnancy than Jax and was determined to do her part in helping Jax keep Jolene healthy.

Although Jolene believed that it was best to err on the side of caution and would have happily agreed to the _suggestion_ that she ride back in the cargo van, she was a little twisted at being _told_, no actually _ordered_, to ride back in the van. She knew and understood her old man's macho tendencies—just one of the many reasons he made her hot—but Jolene still didn't appreciate being dictated to. Jax's take-no-prisoners attitude when Jolene informed him of that fact all but confirmed that, barring any health issues, the biggest problem she would be faced with during this pregnancy would probably be Jax himself.

Aside from the shit storm that kicked up as a result of her shooting almost five years ago, she and Jax rarely ever butted heads and when they did, Jolene knew his weaknesses and how to exploit them. Because her old man was somewhat penis-centric, Jolene had been able to get away with a lot over the years, but the SAMCRO VP was not accustomed to being questioned and second-guessed, especially on matters of great importance. And once she disclosed everything regarding the first pregnancy, there was no telling how he was going to handle the second one.

_No, actually there is_, Jolene thought, _and for some reason, the words "lock down" come to mind_.

Meanwhile, clueless to the fact that his old lady was still a little irked at him, Jax tried to do what he could to keep his joy to himself. The hardened outlaw biker was having trouble containing the urge to shout it for everyone to hear, but his word was his bond and he'd rather shoot himself in the foot than break a promise to Jolene. Besides, he understood her need to know that everything was alright first before sharing the great news. The truth was that the knot in the pit of his stomach would remain there until he heard confirmation from the doctor that everything was alright too.

Jax figured he could probably contain his joyful shit for a couple of days, but he could not have anticipated that sharing the good news would be put off for a good while.

Only twenty minutes away from downtown Charming, all Jax could remember was hearing the chilling squeal of tires as a bike and its rider wavered and then lost control. As the bike ran off the road, it hit a small boulder and tumbled down a steep embankment as the rider was hurled into the air.

_Oh shit!_

"Clay!" Jax yelled.

Screeching to a complete stop, Jax jumped off of his bike and ran to the edge of the road, the rest of the convoy hot on his heels. Looking over the railing, Jax saw his father-in-law's body, his leg and arm twisted underneath him and a small pool of blood forming at the base of his neck.

"Daddy!"

Jax turned to see his old lady desperately trying to get past her Uncle Elvis to climb down to her father.

"Bobby, keep Jolene up here! Somebody call an ambulance now, damn it!"

Leaping over the short barricade, Jax—followed by Tig, Opie and Chibs—eased himself down into the ravine. Making it to Clay first, Jax took off his leather glove and reached out with an unsteady hand to check his pulse.

_Please God. Let him be alive._


	9. Long Live the King

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

It was some time after lunch that Sunday afternoon when the call came in.

Gemma and Neeta were sitting on the patio, gossiping, laughing, and sharing a pitcher of Neeta's famous California Ice Tea. The recipe was a closely guarded secret and Gemma had given up trying to get it out of Neeta two tumblers ago. Whatever was in it, the tea had mellowed them out considerably because God only knew how badly they both had needed the booze. Abel, Kenny, and Ellie were having a great time, but there were moments when it seemed like the house was overrun by rug rats. Jax, Opie, and Jolene had certainly been a handful at that age, but Gemma had also been younger and scarier then too. Apparently, over the years, Gemma had lost some of her bite and was getting softer the older she got because one angelic look from her grandson and she was putty in his hands.

_That boy is definitely his father's son_, Gemma thought with a smile as she sipped on her drink. _So young and he already knows how to work that Teller charm_.

Gemma was in the midst of teasing Neeta about how Abel had her eating out of the palm of his hand as well when they were interrupted by a ringing telephone. Gemma froze in her rattan rocker, the premonition hitting her like a slap in the face. Everyone Gemma knew or associated with was either on the run or in her house and, considering the time of day, the Club was more than likely on the road heading back to Charming. Gemma suddenly grabbed onto Neeta's hand as the woman got up to go answer the phone. The look of near panic on Gemma's face had Neeta's heart thumping wildly in her chest as they clutched hands while the telephone rang in the background.

Someone was calling with bad news, of that Gemma Teller-Morrow had no doubt, but whether she was prepared to handle another loss, only time would tell.

* * *

For the second time in five years, SAMCRO was in the house in full force.

The waiting room next to the third floor surgical unit was jam packed with Club members, old ladies, hang-arounds and prospects all waiting for word on the condition of the mother charter's second President, Clay Morrow. And the atmosphere was grim. It had taken over an hour to retrieve Clay from the ravine and transport him to St. Thomas. The medics that had worked on Clay at the scene told Jax, who had refused to leave his President's side, that Clay's condition was extremely serious.

By the time the ambulance had pulled into the emergency room entrance at St. Thomas, followed closely by the entire SAMCRO convoy, Gemma was already standing there, waiting for news on her husband. The scene was eerily familiar to her, down to the new Prospect standing beside her, not Happy this time around, but a young mountain that called himself Filthy Phil. The older woman's complexion had been deathly white and she looked every one of her 52 years.

Thanks to her BFF Donna, Jolene had managed to get herself under control during the ride into Charming. The scene seemed eerily familiar to her as well, but as old lady to SAMCRO's VP, she knew she needed to be strong for Gemma, even though the thought of losing her father was tearing her up inside. Jumping out of the cargo van, Jolene ran to Gemma, who embraced her fiercely as the young woman filled Gemma in on Clay's condition.

It had taken everything in her not to break down and cry and now, as Jolene sat in her husband's embrace, she let herself feel every inch of exhaustion that trying to stay strong had forced on her.

_Stay strong. Easy to say, but so hard to do_.

Now Gemma sat, trying to come to terms with the possibility that she may lose her second husband to the road, much like she had lost her first and it was something she didn't think she could face again. Having Jax and Jolene by her side comforted her greatly. As strong as she knew she was, Gemma knew that she wouldn't be able to go through this again without her family.

Clay had been in surgery now going on five hours. Jax was sitting with one arm around his mother and the other around his wife as they waited patiently for news. Despite the thoughts he knew must be running through their minds—because Jax couldn't help but wonder himself if that gavel was cursed—Jax was amazed by how tough and resilient the two women he loved most in his life were proving to be.

Taking a good look at his old lady, Jax grew concerned as he noticed that the healthy glow she had been sporting this morning was gone. She was looking tired and slightly pale and was fading fast. According to the time on his prepay, it was almost seven o'clock and the last time he had seen Jolene eat or drink anything had been at breakfast. Every time he had suggested getting her something from the hospital cafeteria, Jolene had refused. Worried about his old lady and the baby she carried, Jax finally decided to put his foot down.

"Yo Sack, Phil?" The two prospects, an Abbott and Costello for the new Millennium, approached the VP. Pulling out a wad of money, Jax peeled off several hundred dollar bills. "Take the cargo van and a bike and go to Nicky's Diner. Take Ope's wife with you. Order a couple of sandwich platters for about 30. Donna will make sure you get everything we need. While one of you waits with Donna for the food, I want the other to bring back a turkey club platter and a small container of milk, a'ight?"

Filthy Phil nodded his large curly head. "Yes sir. Right away."

As both prospects headed towards Donna, his old lady had stirred. "Jax, I'm really not hungry—"

Jax interrupted. "I don't give a shit, Jo. You are going to eat what I put in front of you and that's that." He ordered heatedly.

Looking at the flared nostrils of her old man with wide eyes, Jolene decided that the best course of action was not to argue. "Okay, baby." She sighed.

Feeling like a heel when confronted with the lost look in her eyes, Jax tugged her chin up until her lips were close enough to his and kissed her softly hoping to ease the sting of his words. Giving him a small smile, Jolene leaned her head on his shoulder.

"God, Jackson. What's taking so long?" She almost whispered into the shoulder of his cut.

Unable to get the picture of Clay's broken body out of his mind's eye and not wanting to put his thoughts into words, Jax pressed a kiss onto the top of her head and whispered into her hair. "I don't know, darlin'. I don't know."

* * *

"Damn! Did anybody get the number of the train that ran my ass over?"

Startled from her light dozing, Gemma lifted her head, which was resting on the edge of a high-backed chair.

"Hey, baby." Gemma quickly jumped up and was by Clay's side in less than a second. Seeing his piercing blue eyes finally open and looking straight at her, Gemma let herself smile for the first time since that dreadful phone call. Leaning forward, she gently stroked the side of her husband's battered face as she dropped a light kiss on his dry lips.

"Shit, Gem. What the hell happened?" Clay asked, his voice hoarse.

"Don't you remember?"

Clay winced as he tried to focus his brain. His mind was fuzzy and he was finding it difficult to nail down the details of the only thing he remembered. "All I remember is the feeling of being airborne." Looking down at the left side of his body, Clay had a feeling he should be thanking his lucky stars he was still alive. Although covered by a thin bed sheet, he could make out the outline of the casts on his arm, hip and leg. "How long have I been here?"

"Two days." Gemma swallowed hard, afraid that her voice would crack. "I was starting to get a little nervous you weren't planning on waking up."

Clay managed to reach up with his good arm to caress his old lady's cheek. "Hey, hey, none of that shit, okay? I'm a tough old biker. Besides I have too much to live for." Looking towards the corner of the room behind Gemma, Clay saw his baby girl, curled up in an armchair fast asleep. "Is she alright?"

Gemma smiled. "She can hold her mud. Always could."

"So you wanna clue me in here on the damages?"

Gemma took a deep breath, which came out as a shudder. "I'm not gonna sugar coat it, baby. It's pretty bad."

Quietly, Gemma ran down his list of injuries. According to his surgeon, the left side of his body had borne the brunt of the impact. Along with a severe concussion, his left arm, hip and leg were broken, the arm in two places. Clay also had two broken ribs on the left side, one of which had pierced his lung. Repairing the lung had been difficult because of the preexisting damage caused by his beloved cigars. The doctor had said that, barring any complications resulting from his head injury or infections, Clay's chances for a full recovery were good, but only after extensive and arduous rehab. Essentially, Clay would have to learn to use his left leg all over again.

"Fuck!" Clay swore softly to himself. "How long does the Doc expect I'll be out of commission?"

Gemma hesitated. "Six to eight months, minimum."

"Shit." Clay growled.

Figuring she had downloaded enough bad news for the time being, Gemma decided to tackle his doctor's real concerns regarding his health later. Namely, Clay's arthritis, smoking, high blood pressure, and cholesterol.

Cupping his face in her hands, Gemma leaned towards her old man and tenderly kissed him. "None of that matters right now, baby. You know this whole checking out before me shit is not an option, right?" She whispered.

Clay gave her a half smile. "I'll try to remember that." He replied. "I guess now you know how I felt last year." He said referring to Gemma's own dance with death in the accident that had killed Luann Delaney. Giving his old lady a long slow kiss, Clay was already starting to miss the pussy he wouldn't be getting for the foreseeable future when he heard the sound of a chair creaking.

"Since you seem well enough to suck the tongue out of Gem's head like that, I see my time spent worrying about you was a total waste."

Gemma turned her head to see her daughter-in-law smiling, her arms folded across her chest. "Hey, don't hate. Appreciate."

"You know, this whole seeing the 'rents swapping spit, no bueno. I feel like my eyeballs need a washing." Jolene snarked as she walked towards the hospital bed.

Extending his right arm, Clay wrapped it around his daughter to give her a half-bear hug. As his arm cuddled her to him, quite suddenly Jolene, overcome by two days of fear and grief, finally let the tears flow as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"It's okay, baby girl. It's all right. I'm fine." Clay promised.

Deciding it was the right time to share the good news that Clay was awake with his brothers keeping vigil in the waiting room, Gemma backed out of the room slowly while her husband comforted his daughter.

* * *

"When can I see Papa?" Abel demanded, his lip curled into a pout of major proportions.

Wearing boxers and a white "SONS" t-shirt, Jax sat down on the corner of his son's bed. "I'm sorry, Little Man, but it's going to be a little while. Papa's getting better, but right now his doctor says that he has to rest as much as possible so he can get better that much quicker and come home."

Abel eyed his father warily, his little arms folded across his chest. "When I was in the hospital, Mommy could come and see me anytime she wanted, which was _all_ the time. Why can't I see Papa?" He replied mutinously.

_Too damn smart for his own good._

Clay had been in the hospital for several days before Jolene and Jax had finally broken the news to Abel, who had been questioning his grandfather's absence.

There had to be something about the Morrow constitution because, just like Jolene had after being shot, Clay was making rapid progress in spite of his age. His doctors anticipated that, if he continued to make such progress, he could be home in less than two weeks, which, as it was painfully obviously, would not be soon enough for his grandson.

Fortunately, his mother was able to provide Abel with an answer that finally placated him. "Sometimes, when you're small and you visit the hospital, you can get sick and it would make Papa sad if that happened to you. That's why it's much better for you to wait until he comes home because we don't want Papa worrying. We need him concentrating on getting better, okay?"

"Okay," Abel sighed. "But I still don't like it."

"I know, baby. I don't either." Jolene bent over to kiss her son. "How about we call Papa on the phone tomorrow?"

"I'd like that." Abel reached up to hug his father. "Night, Daddy."

"Good night, Little Man." Jax pressed a kiss against his son's head before tucking him in under his Incredible Hulk fleece blanket.

Closing the door behind them, Jax gave a sigh of relief. "He gets that interrogation bent from you, ya know."

"No, I believe our son was challenging authority and he gets that all from _you_." Jolene giggled as her husband picked her up and carried her back to their bedroom.

"Yeah," Jax drawled with a cheeky grin. "Can't really argue with you there." He gently settled his old lady onto their plush bed. "How ya holding up?"

Jolene smiled as Jax crawled into bed and placed his head on her lap. "Considering everything that's going on, I'm doing great, baby." She ran her fingers through his hair, still damp from his shower earlier.

With Gemma tied up at the hospital, Jolene had been spending her days working full time at the garage with Uncle Elvis and visiting her dad several times a day. She had been keeping so busy that Jax and Jolene had managed to make it to Stockton on the sly to see an obstetrician only that morning. With so much happening at the moment, Jolene wanted to wait until things calmed down before announcing the new baby, but seeing an OB/GYN in Charming was as good as taking an ad out in the local paper. The doctor at Stockton General had confirmed Jolene's pregnancy, ordered a full work up, and wrote her a prescription for prenatal vitamins.

Even though the doctor had declared both mother and baby healthy, pending the results of the blood work, Jax was trying his best to control his inner-Gemma. While in Chino, he had confessed to his mother that he was scared as shit of the possibility of having to go through a difficult pregnancy with Jolene. It didn't take long, however, after falling madly in love with his son, to realize that he could be the old man Jolene needed him to be. Jax loved Jolene more than life itself and he was prepared to do whatever it took to make sure that she and their baby came through this as healthy as possible.

But as much as he loved her, Jax couldn't deny that, much like her father, his old lady could be a stubborn pain in the ass. With Clay laid up for the foreseeable future, Jax knew that her own well-being would be the last thing on Jolene's mind.

Although no one knew better than Jax himself Jolene's ability to wrap him around her little finger, her health and the health of their new son were non-negotiable. If he had to, he wouldn't hesitate to engage his secret weapons: Gemma and her partner-in-crime Neeta Benson.

_Hey, all's fair in love and war_.

But knowing that Jolene would probably kick him in the balls if he sicced his mother on her, the Gemma and Neeta tag team smack down would be employed only as a last resort. First, he would try reasoning with his brilliant, but pig-headed old lady.

"Darlin', I think you need to slow down a bit. At least until the blood results are back." Jax reasoned, flipping onto his back so he could look her in the eyes.

Jolene stroked his face lovingly. "Baby, too many people are counting on me to lend a hand. I don't see how I can slow down without offering a reason why."

"Then maybe the way to go is to tell them why." Jax offered. "We know Clay's fine and it's just a matter of recovery. Your well-being, on the other hand, is a bit more serious."

"You don't know that for sure, Jax." Jolene replied and quickly leaned forward to place a kiss meant to shut him up on his perfectly-shaped lips. The truth of the matter was Jolene didn't know for sure herself. She had not been able to get an appointment with Dr. Negron to get her heart checked out until the end of next week. However, there was no good reason to start worrying before then or before the blood tests regarding the baby came back. "Look, baby, there's no need to set any fires just yet. We keep the baby under wraps until Dad gets home and is settled into a routine. By then I'll be a good two months along and ready to kick back and expecting to get pampered. Everything is going to be fine, all right?"

Jax reached up and buried his hands in the silk of her midnight black curls. "I'm gonna hold you to that."

Letting her husband pull her towards him, Jolene closed her eyes, savoring his tender kiss even as she prayed that her damaged heart and the new baby boy Jax was so sure she was carrying would stick to the plan.

* * *

Jax, Chibs, Opie, and Tig pulled to a stop in front of Devon's Irish bar and parked their bikes. Taking off his helmet and hanging it on the handlebars, Jax pulled out his Reaper Crew hat and put it on.

"I hope this Moran moron is on time." Jax quipped as he lit a cigarette.

"He betta be, brutha," Chibs replied as he got off his bike and walked over to Jax to bum a smoke. "As he's the one that's yanked us from our warm beds and even warmer women and called this meet."

"What can the fat fuck possibly want?" Tig snarked.

"It's got to be about Clay. Word of the accident finally hit the street and I've been fielding calls from other crews all day." Jax replied. "I thought about giving the Irish a heads up, but there hasn't been any time."

"He probably wants assurances that it's business as usual." Opie commented. "It's a valid concern."

"Well, he dunna need to concern himself with that shyte, mon." Chibs countered. "In all my time wit the Sons, we have no' failed to handle our business."

"Then let's make sure that message comes across loud and clear. Let's roll." Flicking his cigarette away, Jax headed towards the Pub's entrance with his brothers following closely behind.

The Pub was relatively quiet as it was quickly approaching closing time when the Sons strolled in. Catching Devon's eye at the bar, the huge Irishman lumbered over. "Luke's in the back room waiting for you. Last door on the left."

Heading towards the back of the pub, Jax walked down a narrow corridor towards the room. As he was about to open the door, Tig stepped in front of him. "Bro, let me go first."

Jax was about to resist Tig's request until Tig tapped his finger on his Sergeant-at-Arms patch. With a slight smile, Jax gestured for Tig to continue.

Luke Moran was sitting at a large round green felt table in the private room reserved for high stakes poker games. Luke stood up as the Sons entered.

"Good evening, lads."

After handshakes were given all around, the group sat down around the table.

"It's good to see you all are in good health. I heard through the grapevine, however, that Clay isn't fairing as well."

Jax folded his hands and placed them on the table. "You heard correctly." He then briefly filled Moran in on the SAMCRO President's accident and his current status.

Luke's dark eyes narrowed as he listened to Jax relate the facts of the matter. "I'm very sorry to hear about your troubles, lad. It would have been better, though had I heard them directly from you, rather than on the street."

"I'm sure it would have, but as I'm sure you can understand, Clay's health and well-being is our main concern right now. As I'm sure you're aware, Clay's not just my President, he's also my stepfather and father-in-law, so the well-being of my mother and wife are also of prime importance. After all, the Irish are big on family, right?" Jax smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

_I really don't care for this POS._

"Aye, the oversight is completely understandable." Luke couldn't keep the smirk out of his voice. "I have been asked by the Irish Kings to wish Clay a speedy recovery."

"I'll definitely pass that along." Jax replied, his eyes narrow.

"However," Luke started.

_Here it comes_, Jax shook his head slightly.

"There is some concern about our current business." Luke continued.

"And just what concern is that, aye?" Chibs inquired.

Luke waved a hand in the air. "As I am sure that _you_ can understand, with Clay out of commission indefinitely, I need to make sure that our business continues to move on steady and sure for the sake of the Cause. We would hate for any internal threats or struggles during this time to negatively impact our business."

Jax leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "You can advise the Irish Kings that they can rest easy. Unlike the RIRA's current situation, _we_ have no internal problems within our charter. The Sons have never failed to take care of business and, I can assure you as Vice President, we have no intention of starting now."

Luke eyed the young man and then smiled. "Well, then, lads. That's all I wanted to hear. You'll be glad to know that the next shipment came across the Canadian border on time. I'll be ready to make the transfer in two days at the usual location and time." Luke stood up.

Jax followed suit. "Then we'll see you in two days."

* * *

"_So how did it go?" _Jimmy O asked from clear across the Atlantic.

"It went well, Jimmy. Jax Teller assured me that there would be no problems regarding our future business with the Sons." Luke replied. He was sitting in his darkened Land Rover outside the Pub as Devon was closing up for the night.

"_That certainly is comforting to hear, but Luke, I'm thinking that this might be the time to make the push." Jimmy suggested._

"Brother, we have a plan, a timetable in place. Making the move this early may not be such a wise play." Luke warned

"_I beg to differ. I think now may be the perfect time. With the head of SAMCRO down, so to speak, more than likely we'll be dealing with the young lad, who has no experience running a national charter." Jimmy explained._

"As your second-in-command, Jimmy, I'm obliged to tell ya that I think you're making a mistake by underestimating Jax Teller. Sure, he's a bit cocky, but McKeavey had a lot of good to say about him, a steady hand and cool under fire with a mind for the business just like his Da, JT."

"_Well, McKeavey's dead now, isn't he?" Jimmy O practically roared into Luke's ear. "And he was old and slow, used to the old ways. An old soldier who was getting soft. His assessment of Teller was probably tainted by the fact that the young buck saved his hide."_

"That may be, but it's not just Teller we're dealing with here."

"_Exactly. More the reason as to why we should strike sooner rather than later. The boy will be too busy fighting his own Club to head off the change in our business arrangement. By the time he catches on, it will be too late." Jimmy laughed gleefully, not at all understanding Luke's trepidation._

Luke sighed. "All right. We'll do it your way, but at least let me get this shipment delivered safely so as to not arouse suspicion."

"_That makes sense. The next shipment on tap won't be expected for a few weeks. In the interim, we'll make our move."_

* * *

"Your father is so damn stubborn."

"Oh yeah? Well, Christmas is in December. Not exactly news, Gem. Why does this surprise you now?" Jolene snarked.

The two old ladies were sitting on one of the swinging benches on the Teller's front porch. With the slowly setting sun turning the sky burnt orange, the two women took a well deserved break. Rocking the bench together as they sipped on glasses of freshly made lemonade, they watched while in the front yard Neeta got a little unwanted exercise running after Abel.

"Yeah, you'd think that after nearly 14 years of this shit that I'd know better, huh? Let me give you a piece of advice. Outlaw bikers are hard enough to deal with, but sick outlaw bikers need to be put in medically-induced comas."

"Sorry, Gem, but that piece of Intel is something I already know first hand." Jolene said, remembering the numerous times she has had to care for her injured old man throughout the years. "I've looked into it. They don't sell those coma-inducing meds over the internet." She kidded.

Gemma turned her head to face her daughter-in-law. "What is it about our men folk and their desire to make us crazy with worry as we fear for their lives?"

"Keeps us skinny." Jolene snarked. "God knows I can't choke down any food while Jax is on a run or doing a job. Besides, would you have it any other way?"

"Not likely."

"Me neither." Jolene smiled. "So what has Daddy Dearest done that's got you all riled up?" She took another sip of her lemonade. It was good for her queasy stomach.

"He's refusing to agree to a home attendant, among other things."

Jolene straightened up from her slouched position. "What the fuck? How are you supposed to cope without one? Is he nuts?"

"I certainly think so." Gemma replied.

Gemma had been thinking ahead of the game when she spoke to Clay's doctor about what would be needed to set up their home for his recovery. The doctor planned to have a detailed discussion with both of them concerning Clay's recovery options, but he thought that it would be a good idea now for Gemma to talk with the hospital administrator about locating medical supplies as well as recommendations for in-home care.

"I spoke to that uptight bitch at the hospital, Margaret Murphy. She put me in touch with some medical supply companies so we can rent what's needed to create a hospital room for Clay at the house."

"You know I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Dad won't be able to manage the stairs. Where are you going to set him up, in the living room?"

"Destroy my living room? I don't think so." Gemma snarked. "No, I had intended to set him up in his man cave, but before I could get the words out my mouth, he nearly chewed my face off. Touching his room is grounds for divorce as far as that fat head is concerned. Can you believe that shit?"

"Uh, yeah, I can. You know how territorial Dad can get. Besides, he's probably afraid you'd deck it all out in pink." Jolene teased.

"Don't tempt me. It's still under consideration!" Gemma groused. "So besides the logistical nightmare of where to make him most comfortable, I told him I scheduled some appointments for him to meet with some male nurses who would help with his day-to-day care. You would think that part of their duties included them jerking him off, the damn fit he pitched. If this is how it's going to be, he might as well stay at St. Thomas or move into a rehab facility. It would serve him right, but I just can't do that to him. I actually love that idiot."

"Well, maybe you won't have to." Jolene hedged.

Gemma got up to pour herself another glass of lemonade. "What are you thinking, baby girl?"

_If I wasn't pregnant, it's very likely that my old man might kill me for not running this by him first, but it's my Dad and his President_, Jolene thought.

"The fact is, I've been mulling this over for a couple of days. Now, I don't want you to flip out, and technically, I haven't even broached this with Jax and he might very well choke the living shit out of me for not doing so, but here it goes. What if you two moved in with us?" Jolene cringed a little as she saw Gemma nearly drop her glass on the porch.

"What?" Gemma said blankly.

"Now, before you get all riled up, hear me out. Your house, while gorgeous, is not handicap-friendly. It would take substantial time and work to get a room outfitted to meet Dad's needs and, with no full bathroom on the first floor, you're looking at a major reconstruction of the existing bathroom. And as far as the home attendant is concerned, I can't blame Dad in the least. He's only going to trust someone he knows.

"We, on the other hand, have a huge bedroom with a large bathroom and a small sitting room right off the kitchen. It would be perfect for you and Dad. We could have Oswald Construction gut the bathroom and make it handicap accessible in a couple of days. With the bathroom properly outfitted, Dad could take care of himself without an audience. And we get somebody in here that can help you with Dad. Somebody he knows, like a Prospect, maybe, to help lift him and move him around. He can stay upstairs during Dad's recovery. We certainly have the room." Jolene nodded as Gemma pursed her lips. "Gem, we can make this work. On the plus-plus side, Abel can have 24-hour access to his G-Ma and Papa."

Jolene looked at her mother-in-law, not entirely sure of her reaction.

Gemma was doing her best not to bawl like a baby. The last week had been an emotional rollercoaster, the fear of nearly losing Clay crippling her. Neither of them was getting any younger and Clay, in his rightfully grumpy and self-pitying mode, was not a joy to deal with. She had always considered herself a strong old lady but, she had to admit, sometimes it was good to have someone to lean on. Part of her was surprised at how much she wanted to jump at the offer, but Gemma realized how unfair it would be to intrude on the newlywed couple.

Not really wanting to say no, the older woman did her best not to let her daughter-in-law know how much she wanted to say yes. "Baby, your offer means a lot to me. It really it does, but you've only been married a few months. Trust me, you don't want your in-laws living with you. _Jax_ won't want his in-laws living here."

"Look, it might not be the best of living conditions, but we're both adults. And as long as everyone remembers that, in this house, _I'm_ the Head Bitch In Charge, I think we can manage just fine." Jolene grinned.

"And what about the home attendant?"

"Actually, I was thinking Filthy Phil would fit the bill." Jolene suggested.

The young man had made good on Jax's invitation to stop by T-M to check out the Harleys, quickly becoming a hang-around. In the last five months, the Clubhouse had become a second home to him and Filthy Phil had managed to make himself useful around the lot. His loyalty to Jolene, the only teacher at Excelsior Prep that ever believed in him, and Jax, who although gruff, had befriended the young man, was unwavering. It really came as no surprise to Jolene when Opie decided to sponsor him. She had hoped that Phil would consider going to college, but Jolene knew just as well as anyone that sometimes the Life chose you, not the other way around.

"Dad will torture the hell out of him, but if he can take it, Phil is as good as patched in." Jolene smiled. "Hey, it'll give Dad someone to bully because you know Neeta won't take that shit. Besides, he's a good kid, and Lord knows he's big enough to handle Dad all by himself. I know this is a lot to think about, Gem. Talk to Dr. Wallace and get Dad's updated recovery prognosis, then I'll speak to Jax and, if I somehow survive, we'll take it from there. Okay?"

Gemma reached over to wrap her arms around Jolene as she discreetly wiped away a tear. "Damn, I sure didn't expect this to happen. I guess I'm Team Jolene, after all."

The two women were still laughing as Neeta, who had finally called the exercise quits, made her way up the stairs to the porch, sat down and sighed heavily as Abel climbed onto her lap and made himself at home. "I'm ain't no punk sister, but I'm too old for this crap."

"Baby, did you tire Miss Neeta out?" Jolene smiled mischievously.

"Mommy, I had a good time, but Miss Neeta, she don't like running."

"That's because Miss Neeta has a fat butt." Gemma snickered under her breath.

"I heard that!" Neeta admonished. "Muttering under your breath like it's some big secret. Maybe, instead of me lugging my fat behind running after my baby here, somebody should get this boy a dog to chase him around."

Abel instantly brightened up. "Miss Neeta, I think that's a good idea! Daddy said that he was going to get me a dog, but I don't gots one yet."

"Oh, he did now, did he?" Neeta asked.

Abel nodded his head emphatically. "Uh huh. If I had a dog, I wouldn't miss Papa so much."

Climbing off of Neeta's lap, he transferred himself over to his grandmother's. Looking into her eyes, he frowned. "When is Papa coming home, Grandma? I'm tired of talking to him on the phone. I wanna see him."

Hugging her grandson, Gemma replied. "We hope really soon, honey. You're just going to have to be patient."

"What's _patient_ mean?"

"It means that sometimes you have to wait a while before what you want happens."

"You mean like waiting for Papa to come home, or for me to get a brother or sister or my dog?"

"That's right." Gemma grinned. "Believe me, I'm waiting for you to get a little brother or a sister, too."

"You are? Will you like them as much as you like me?" Abel questioned, his head slightly cocked to the side.

Gemma smiled. "I will _love_ them as much as I _love_ you."

"Then that's good," Abel rested his head on his grandma's ample bosom. "But I still want a dog."

* * *

Although a small hospital, St. Thomas had several private suites for those patients who had the bank to pay for them. The private room that Clay had been moved to was surprisingly large. Sporting a large sitting area with a sofa and several comfortable chairs that faced the large hospital bed and its occupant, the room had been transformed into a temporary Chapel for SAMCRO.

Clay made an imposing figure sitting upright in his bed, despite the large casts on the left side of his body. With the gavel that had been brought from the Chapel sitting on top of the table that had the remains of his perfectly nutritional, if tasteless breakfast, Clay slammed the gavel down to call the meeting to order.

"First off, I want to want thank all of my brothers. This situation hasn't been easy for any of us, but as always, when the going gets tough, we pull together as a family."

Bobby nodded. "You know we'll always have your back, brother." From the nods and clapping in the room, it seemed that Bobby had expressed the sentiments of the entire room.

"I know, and I appreciate it." Clay looked towards Jax, who had taken position on his left. "But if you really had my back, y'all could have brought me something decent to eat. I'm paying a mint in this place. You'd think they'd have the decency to feed me something at least edible." He complained.

"Hey, nobody is about to mess around with your old lady. She even gets a whiff that we snuck any food in here, she'll have all our asses in a sling." Opie joked.

"Should have known my old lady had something to do with this shit." Clay rolled his eyes at the mushy and cold oatmeal on his tray. "VP, please take my mind off my grumbling stomach by filling me in on our current state of operations."

Jax nodded. "We met with Moran prior to the pick-up of our merch. He wanted us to pass along best wishes from the Irish Kings for your speedy recovery."

Clay smiled sardonically. "How sweet. Now what did he _really_ want?"

"No moss grows on you, man." Tig said grinning.

"What he really wanted," Jax started. "Was to make sure that things were still operational with us and that business would go on as usual in spite of your untimely accident. I managed to make it clear that the Sons can handle their shit, but I'm not getting a good vibe from this guy. He's no McKeavey."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, VP. Your gut's usually spot on, but in this case, as long as we continue holding up our end, the Irish have no choice but to hold up theirs. We won't go borrowing trouble just yet." Clay replied. "Continue."

"We got the merch from Moran and it's been transferred to Bluebird. At least on that end he seems to know what he's doing. The transfer took place without a hitch and Chibs is up at Bluebird now, overseeing our crew of illegals on the assembly."

"Is he the only patch up there?" Clay queried.

Jax nodded. "At the moment, yeah. He took Half-Sack with him, but he's gonna need a few extra hands. We've got the Niner order going out next week, plus the Fresno and Tucson charter orders came in last night. Both shipments need to go out in about 10-12 days from now."

"How's Huff working out?"

"In spite of the fact that his choice in pussy is _way_ the fuck off, he's seems to understand the logistics well enough." Opie replied. "He's really pushing for learning the assembly aspect of the operation, though."

"I know we discussed this before, but now that you've worked with him a little, what's your handle on that, Tig?" Clay asked.

The SAA shook his head. "Too much, too soon. Assembly's a delicate process, man. I don't trust that SAMTAZ has the skill or manpower to deal with this and I don't think Huff's the man to bring that knowledge to them. This is our livelihood, bro. I think we definitely need to keep him out of the loop."

"And you, Jax? You agree?"

Jax crossed his arms. "Yeah, I do. I say we keep him busy doing grunt work for the Club for now. Maybe ask him to step in and help us out on some protection runs for Unser Trucking."

_Keep his ass, as well as my ex-gash, out of the Clubhouse._

So far, Wendy had kept the peace, making sure to stay out of her ex-husband's way. Huff, on the other hand, seemed to have a bit of a swagger about him. In spite of everything on his plate since Clay's accident, Jax had not forgotten that he had a score to settle with Huff after his "mistaken identity" conversation with Jolene at the rally. Jax definitely got the feeling that Huff thought he had bested the SAMCRO VP by snapping up his ex-old lady. The idiot had no clue that no one could hold a candle to his Jolene and even though he wasn't prepared to let anyone, especially another patch, disrespect his old lady, Jax wasn't about to raise a stink just yet. There was simply too much shit going on as a result of Clay's accident and Jolene's delicate condition to get bogged down in some alpha male dick yanking contest.

Clay nodded. As far as he could tell, it seemed like his brothers had everything well in hand. "Is there anything else on the table?"

Juice spoke up. "Yeah, Half-Sack's year will be up in another month. Chibs wanted me to bring it to the table about patching him in."

Clay looked around the table. "What's the consensus?"

"He's a tough nut, considering he's only got one left." Tig snarked, which caused the room to convulse with laughter.

"Yeah, he's got some balls alright." Clay took a deep breath and looked at Jax. "I guess when you call for the vote, he'll make it through." Suddenly the room was silent.

Jax was nonplussed. "What are you saying, bro?"

"What I'm saying is that, as the Acting President, it's gonna be your job to sit at the head of the table." Seeing the looks of shock on the faces of his brothers, Clay continued. "I spoke with Dr. Wallace yesterday." Seeing the concern reflected in his brothers' eyes, Clay held his hand up. "Hey, don't get your panties in a wad. I'm not about to croak just yet. It's just that I was given a revised prognosis regarding the length of my recovery."

"So what's the word, brother?" Tig asked.

"The word is, my ass probably won't touch the seat of my bike for at least a year, maybe more." Clay said quietly.

"Shit, man." Tig exclaimed.

He wasn't alone in his expression of sympathy, but the bylaws established by SAMCRO's co-founders, John Teller and Piney Winston, were clear. If you can't ride, you can't vote and if you can't vote, you sure as hell can't lead.

Clay cleared his throat. "I have been proud to lead the Sons of Anarchy Redwood Original as your President for the past 15 years and I hope to be able to lead my brothers again one day. But I can't do it now and you need a President who is whole, and who can be there for his brothers. To not only lead the mother charter, but to set the example for the rest of the MC as well. Until such time that I can resume my chair, it is my belief that there is no one more qualified in this room to sit at the head of the table than my son. So will someone please second the goddamn motion already?"

Bobby stood up proudly. "I second the motion!"

Clay smiled at Jax, who looked a little shell-shocked. "Then we'll vote on it at next Church." Clay pointed a finger at Opie. "Make sure you bring Piney's drunk ass down from the cabin."

"No doubt." Opie grinned. "Old man wouldn't miss this shit for the world."

Clay nodded and slammed the gavel down. "Meeting adjourned." Looking at his brothers, Clay said, "Let me have the room for a minute. I need to talk to my VP."

As the brothers filed out, Clay motioned to Jax to step around to the right side of his bed. "You okay, son?"

"Yeah. Nah. Shit, man, I don't fuckin' know." Jax replied as he rubbed his chin. "I guess I knew this endgame was possible, but I didn't want it to happen this way."

Clay reached out and rested his oversized mitt on his stepson's neck. "I think it's safe to say that you've wanted this gavel all of your life."

_Nah, only since I was five years old_, Jax thought.

"This is a good testing period for you, Jax. I talked to Bobby about this long and hard yesterday. He seems to think that it's time for the next generation to lead SAMCRO into the future and he thinks your wingman is ready to step it up as Acting VP. And I think he's absolutely right."

Both Clay and Bobby had come to the conclusion that it was only fitting that JT's and Piney's boys head the table, not because it was their legacy, but because they had earned it. The world was changing and the two lifelong friends had been through a minefield together in the name of brotherhood and had grown into older and wiser men. Having left their youthful antics behind, they had grown into men of character and loyalty who would work hard not just for the betterment of their brotherhood, but for their own families as well.

"No doubt." Jax agreed. Reaching over, he hugged the man who had indeed become a father to him. "I promise you, Clay. I won't let you or the Club down and, when you're ready, your chair will be waiting for you."


	10. No More Secrets

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Sons of Anarchy.**

**A/N: This is a short chapter, but it's heavy on character development and deals with a pivotal turning point in Jax and Jolene's relationship. It also contains some spoilers regarding events that happened in _Charming's Worst Kept Secret_ and the prequel _He Just Doesn't Know It Yet_.**

**The response to the last chapter was really overwhelming and surprising. To show my gratitude and as a special treat, I'm posting this chapter early. Hopefully it will inspire the same feedback. If you read, please review and let me know what you think. As always, thanks for reading. Enjoy!**

* * *

It was getting late. Well, not really as it was only a little past 10:00 p.m. on a Friday night. With her father in the hospital, however, and Church having been held earlier in the morning, Jolene had expected Jax home hours ago, especially since after-Church festivities had been postponed until further notice. The last time she had seen her husband had been when they had crossed paths at the hospital. Jolene was on her way to the garage to cover for Uncle Elvis during Church, as Jax and the rest of the Club had arrived for the meeting.

Even though Filthy Phil, as requested by Jax, had dropped in several times throughout the afternoon and evening to check on her, it wasn't like Jax to go an entire day without at least calling. After catching herself Swiffering the hardwood floors for the third time today, Jolene realized that she really needed to calm down and relax. Now, lying on her bed, Jolene stared up at the ceiling, fighting the temptation to look at her watch again.

Rolling up into a sitting position, she laid her hand on her flat tummy. "My little peanut," She spoke softly to the tiny being in her belly. "I'm sure you can probably sense my nervous anxiety and I'm sorry, but I have a lot of crap to unload on your daddy tonight and I'm not quite sure how he's gonna take it."

Jolene knew that bearing her soul and finally coming clean to her old man wasn't going to be easy. She got overwrought with emotion whenever she tried to put into words the things she had to tell him. Truth was, Jolene felt she had betrayed the promise she had made with Jax during their reunion in Chino almost 11 months ago. Jax, desperate to make things work between them the second time around, wanted to start over with a clean slate. Getting over and forgiving past mistakes and indiscretions and divulging any and all secrets was the only way they could move on with their future. But now it was clear to Jolene that she had reneged on that promise from the get as there had been some things she decided that, after everything they had already been through, were not necessary to disclose.

She had been epically wrong.

The past was never really dead. The information she had on Stahl was proof of that and now with that psycho bitch loose in Charming, Jax and his brothers needed whatever information she had that would not only shed light on the ATF's real reasons for breathing down their necks, but that would protect them as well. Even though Jolene was sure that going behind the Club's back to take out Pretty Ricky would put Clay in SAMCRO's crosshairs, Jolene was prepared to plead her father's case to her old man because she couldn't let Jax operate in the dark.

So here she was, waiting for Jax to come home, knowing that what she had to say could destroy what they had worked so hard to rebuild and praying for the strength to say it anyway.

* * *

_She is so beautiful._

Jax stood in the open doorway and watched his old lady while she slept. He was really glad that Donna had been able to convince Jolene to let Little Man spend the night with Kenny and Ellie. It was so obvious that his old lady was running on empty, between her shifts at the hospital and covering the office at T-M, and he knew that sleeping in on a Saturday would be a real treat she probably hasn't enjoyed in years.

Jax quietly walked into the master bathroom, stripped and took a quick shower. As the water cascaded over him, he thought about Clay's unexpected proposal. The Club has been Jax's life even before he had prospected at seventeen. Having had two fathers who had served as President had naturally created a desire within Jax to hopefully earn that privilege himself one day, but he had never expected his ascent to the head of the table to happen this quickly.

Now that the moment was at hand, Jax could only hope that he had acquired all the experience and skills he needed to effectively lead the Club. Granted, it was only a temporary situation until Clay recovered from his accident and was capable of riding again. Still, the thought that the burden of leading SAMCRO, as well as the other charters as National President rested on his shoulders, was a little terrifying. As only the third and youngest President of the Sons, Jax knew that much was expected from him. His life, already centered on the Club, would soon be consumed by it and Jax knew he was a lucky man to have an old lady like Jolene by his side. Always his biggest cheerleader and greatest supporter, it was almost like Jolene had been grooming him for this moment even before she was truly his.

He just had to break the news to her first.

Jax had no doubt that Jolene would support him 100%, but he also knew that someone as loving and loyal as Jolene would be torn between her happiness for her old man and sadness for her father. After coming so close to losing her dad, she was bound to be devastated by the news that he was resigning as leader of the Club he loved so much and handing the gavel over to someone else, even if it was her own husband.

Turning off the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, Jax hoped to slip into bed without waking his old lady, but was surprised to see her sitting up and wide awake when he returned to their room.

"Hey, darlin'. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay. I was hoping to stay awake, but I fell asleep."

Sitting down next to her, Jax reached out to push several stray locks of hair out of her eyes. "I'm starting to sound like a broken record, Jo, but you really need to slow down, darlin'. You're doing too much and working too hard," Jax started, but his wife interrupted.

"I'm doing what I need to do for my family, baby, and nothing is going to keep me from doing it." Drawing back, Jolene looked into her husband's face. "So tell me, how's Dad doing? I didn't get a chance to go back to the hospital today and when I spoke to him on the phone earlier, I got the feeling he was avoiding telling me about his meet with Dr. Wallace."

_Oh, man. Jolene is getting as good as Ma with her bullshit detecting skills. Well, here it goes._

"He was in pretty good spirits, but you're right, babe. He may have been avoiding a discussion of his talk with Dr. Wallace."

Jolene sat straight up. "I knew it. Why? What's wrong?"

Jax shook his head slightly and smiled reassuringly. "Your dad's fine. He's recovering at a steady pace from his surgery and he's gonna heal. It's just gonna take a little longer than he originally expected. Full recovery may take a year, maybe more."

_Oh shit_!

Jolene's heart sank in her chest, wishing her father had discussed his prognosis with her so she could gauge his feelings herself. "How's he taking it?"

"He seems pretty resigned to it." Jax started, looking Jolene directly in the eyes. "Enough, at any rate, to recommend that I take over as Acting President until he recovers."

Jolene's eyes widened and then sparkled at the news. "Oh my God, baby! That's fantastic!" She bubbled over as she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely. Suddenly remembering what this meant to her father, Jolene pulled back from their embrace. Just like he knew she would, Jolene looked torn. "I don't mean it's fantastic like, 'Great! Dad's too fucked up to lead! Yay!' You know how I mean it, right?" She asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I do, babe." Jax leaned in and kissed her, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck again.

Pulling back, Jolene held his face in her hands. "I'm so proud of you, Jax. JT would be so proud, too. You deserve this. You've earned it." She was beaming at him, so much so, that Jax couldn't help but smile back.

For the first time since Clay had made his announcement and nominated Jax to take over his position, Jax allowed himself to feel happy about this turn of events. He loved the Club. The Club was a big part of his life, but Jolene _was_ his life. Although he never doubted her support, the sense of relief he felt by her reaction was overwhelming. It meant a lot to know that his old lady had his back, especially since he didn't know for sure how the other charters would react to the news.

"Thanks, darlin'. Nothing means more to me right now than knowing I have your support." Jax grabbed fistfuls of her hair, gently pulling her in and kissing her forehead. "The timing's a little off, though. Here I was, hoping to spend the summer focusing on you and our growing family . . . Don't get me wrong, Jo. Leading my Club is a privilege and an honor. I'm just gonna have to find a way to balance my responsibilities to my family and SAMCRO."

"And I _know_ you will." Jolene assured him, but as Jax looked into her seafoam green eyes, he could see that something else was now troubling her.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

Jolene sighed and it came out as a shudder, sending shivers down her spine. "We need to talk, Jax."

Clear blue eyes stared intently at his woman. "Are you all right? Is something wrong with the baby?" Jax almost whispered.

"No, not at all. Lil' Peanut is just fine. I promise, I'm doing my best to not overdo anything and I'm strictly following the doctor's instructions, so don't worry, okay?"

_God, how do I start this?_

Jolene decided to just jump n. "We need to talk about Stahl." As her husband looked at her blankly, Jolene continued. "The plan was to talk to you as soon as we got home from the bike rally, but that plan went down the shitter after what happened. After things started to settle down, it just never seemed like the right time."

"Talk to me about what?" Jax asked, his eyes suddenly darkening and his nostrils flaring. "That fuckin' gash giving you a hard time again? I'll snap her like a twig, Jo, I swear."

Jolene reached up and caressed his cheek. "Baby, I've a lot to tell you and the fact is you're probably not going to like some of it." She reached up to kiss him tenderly on the lips. "No, actually, I know you won't like _any_ of it, but I need you to let me get it all out, okay?"

Jax could feel his heart rapidly beating in his chest. Obviously, whatever his old lady was going to tell him was going to be difficult. Rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, he took a deep breath. "Just tell me."

Jolene swallowed the lump in her throat. "The night Stahl spent interrogating me, she didn't just question me about the shooting and Kyle Hobart. Somehow, Stahl managed to dig up some dirt about me and my time with Valentina in Seattle."

_WTF?_

"You mean what happened in Lodi? How, because of me, you ended up with your piece of shit egg donor? That's ancient history, Jo."

Jolene nodded. "That's only part of the shit she tried to use against me. Something happened in Seattle and she tried to connect the dots in her theory that the Club was somehow involved in what happened as a result with the shooting years later and Kyle falling off the grid." Jolene's voice trembled slightly as she continued. "I never told anyone, but Dad. I made him promise not to tell anyone, ever. Part of me knew that you would blame yourself if you ever found out, and that would have been so unfair because it wasn't your fault. The other part of me was ashamed and afraid that no one would ever believe the daughter of a known whore. It was just easier for me to forget that it happened at all."

Jolene sighed and swiped at her tears, feeling the guilt of her own selfishness. "I don't think I can even look you in the face." She said almost to herself.

"Yes, you can, baby. Look at me." Jax gently nudged her chin up. "I'm not going anywhere, Jo."

Feeling empowered by the determined look on his face, Jolene took a deep breath. "When I came back from Seattle, you remember the bruises on my face?"

Jax nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The memory of the joy he had felt seeing her again quickly turning to rage at the sight of the bruising on her beautiful face.

"Do you remember what you said you would do after you saw the bruises?"

"Like it was yesterday." Jax replied softly.

_Just give me a name, darlin' and I'll take care of it._

With their eyes locked on each other, Jolene reached for Jax's hands. Clutching them as if she could somehow stop him if he'd try pulling away from her after hearing what she had to say next, Jolene almost broke into tears again as he squeezed her hands reassuringly.

"On the day I came back to Charming, I was alone in the apartment, or so I thought, but the egg donor's pimp was there too. He managed to catch me off guard and tried to rape me. I fought back, but that only pissed him off and he beat me within an inch of submission. I managed to get away, made it down the fire escape, and I didn't stop running until I ran into your arms at the airport."

Stopping to take several deep breaths, Jolene could see that even though his jaw was clenched tight, his eyes were soft, almost moist.

"I only ever told Dad. He went to Seattle and when he returned, he told me that I would never have to worry about that scumbag again. I'm not naïve, not even back then. I knew he had gone to Seattle to kill him and I knew he needed help and probably used the Club to do it without taking it to the table because I swore him to secrecy. That secret of what happened should have died with that scumbag, but when Stahl went to see her, the egg donor, who has apparently cleaned up, spilled her guts about the attempted rape." Jolene started shaking her head. "It's not my Dad's fault, Jax. It's mine. Just me. And I know that when we got back together we promised to start over with a clean slate, but I truly didn't think this shit from 8 years ago could affect us, so I said nothing. I'm so sorry."

With his jaw still clenched, Jax seemed to be struggling to contain the words that were burning his tongue. He cupped his hands around the love of his life's face and gently used his thumbs to wipe the tracks of her tears away.

And then he said something that completely shattered her world.

"After stabbing him with that shard of glass, darlin', you should have sliced Pretty Ricky's fuckin' balls off."

* * *

The moment that the fog of rage cleared from his mind, Jax couldn't believe he had spoken those words out loud. But all he needed as confirmation that he had was the look of utter devastation on Jolene's face. With his heart pounding in his chest, it took Jax almost half a minute to realize that she was pulling away from him, slowly inching back, ready to jump off the bed on the other side and run out the door.

"No, Jo." Jax almost pleaded as he went to hold her by the shoulders, but Jolene managed to shrug her way out of his hands.

"You knew." She accused, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks unbidden, but now Jolene was wiping them away angrily.

"You're not the only one with secrets, darlin'." Jax replied, his face grim.

Jolene felt on the verge of passing out. "How long?"

Never thinking that tonight would end like this, now that the door was open, Jax was determined to bring to light any skeletons they had in the closet and clear the slate between them. Permanently.

"Jo, this is where you're going to have to be a little understanding."

"Understanding?" Jolene spit out like the word left a bad taste in her mouth. "I've burdened myself with keeping this a secret for years, never even telling my best friend, thinking that no one would ever know what had happened. Now, not only do I find out that you know, but that my father lied to me—" Stopping abruptly, Jolene's eyes widened as she came to a devastating conclusion. "You left town the day after I returned to Charming."

Hearing the accusation in her voice, Jax shook his head. "No, darlin', I didn't help Clay kill the fuckin' prick. Your father was still too pissed at me for putting you in that predicament in the first place. He never would have asked me for help. I wish he had, though. I would have ripped the piece of shit apart and enjoyed every minute of it."

"I can't believe this." Jolene said angrily. "Do you have any idea how this makes me feel?"

Jax nodded. "You probably feel as angry as I did finding out that my old lady was hiding shit from me regarding the ATF bitch." He said rather sternly.

Suddenly realizing that, in the grand scheme of things, she was the worst offender when it came to keeping secrets, Jolene felt her resolve softening. Relaxing a bit, Jolene leaned against the headboard and looked at her old man, who seemed to be pretty calm, considering the circumstances.

"When did Dad tell you?" She asked.

_Now, here's the tricky part_, Jax thought.

"After we took care of Whistler."

"Whistler? Seattle happened almost four years before that shit. Why would Dad tell you if it was already dead history by then?" Jolene asked puzzled.

"It wasn't dead history to Clay. Not after what we found out that night."

"Baby, you're losing me. I don't understand." Jolene crawled onto her knees on the bed. Reaching for her, Jax pulled his old lady into his lap.

It was now time for him to reveal things that both he and Clay had decided a long time ago were better left unsaid.

Jax buried his face in her fresh smelling hair and nuzzled her ear. "Jo, I know you're angry and upset with your father, but telling me what happened wasn't to betray you, but to help me realize why I had to let you go. When he shared with me what nearly happened to you, it only made me see how much danger I had put you in time and time again."

"Let me go? I wasn't some bird in a gilded cage, Jax. It wasn't your call to make, at least not without talking to me about it." Jolene argued.

"Shit, Jo, I know that now, but at the time, after what almost happened with Kyle, the truth about what went down in Seattle ripped me to shreds. I wasn't thinking straight, darlin', and I blamed myself for all of it. San Diego seemed the safest place for you to be, as far away from me as possible."

Jolene threw up her hands. "I still don't get it, Jax. I wasn't Kyle's target. You _and_ Dad were. I got caught in the cross-fire and the only person to blame was Kyle."

Jax took a deep breath and exhaled. "We were his primary targets, but he was gonna use you to break us first."

"What?" Jolene shook her head slightly. "What does that mean?"

Jax proceeded to tell Jolene about the Club's interrogation of Whistler and the tape recording he produced of a meet he had with Kyle. "Kyle practically offered the Nord the keys to Charming and all Whistler had to do was assassinate SAMCRO's VP and President, in that order." Looking into her eyes he continued. "At first, Whistler resisted, saying that his only beef was with me and that he didn't need Kyle's help in seeking revenge, so as an incentive, Kyle offered you as part of the deal."

Jolene's eyes widened as her hand flew to her mouth. "Offered me how?"

"The night we were shot, Whistler was to track us home, tie me up, and make me watch while he and Kyle raped you before killing you." Jax stopped, his eyes fixated on the big, fat tear threatening to fall from her eye, but decided to continue and get it all out. "After they killed me, they were gonna dump your body where it could be found because Kyle wanted to witness first hand your father and Bobby crying over your broken body. Then Whistler would kill Clay with the Mayans taking the fall in hopes of igniting a war between SAMCRO and Alvarez, enabling Kyle to take over the Club."

Jax heart nearly broke in two as he saw the horror in Jolene's eyes. "This was all planned by Kyle?" She asked and Jax nodded.

The lone fat tear that had been threatening to fall finally did. Stunned, Jolene nearly collapsed, folding into Jax's arms as she silently sobbed in the crook of his neck.

Jax wordlessly held her tight, lovingly stroking her back as she clung to him and cried. Four years ago, Jax may have pushed Jolene away, but she had always blamed Kyle for the breakup of their relationship. If it hadn't been for the shooting, they never would have separated and she wouldn't have left Jax and Charming. The thought that a man who had shared a patch with her father and her old man had conspired with a sworn enemy of SAMCRO to do unspeakable horrors to her forced the bile from her stomach to rise into her throat. Suddenly, Jolene was leaping off of Jax's lap and dashing to the bathroom, with her husband supporting her as she was violently ill.

After cleaning her up, Jax now cradled Jolene in his arms as she started to put the facts together. "That's why you were pushing for me to go to San Diego." She whispered against his chest.

"It started that way, but I was wavering, about to go back on my decision to let you go. Then you showed up at the Clubhouse and I broke. I couldn't give you up, Jo. I loved you too fuckin' much." Jax stopped, caressing her face with his hand as he trailed soft kisses from her mouth, over her cheek still salty from her tears, to her hair. "Clay was angry with me. He called me selfish and said that I should just put a bullet in your head myself because ultimately being with me was going to kill you. He wanted to protect you, so he told me about what had happened in Seattle. It wasn't to hurt you, Jo. He had come so close to losing you that he couldn't risk it happening again."

Jolene balled her little fist in his hair and tugged. "Oww!" Jax complained, grabbing her hand and kissing it.

"You should have come to me with this, Jackson." Jolene admonished. "You realize all the pain we could have saved ourselves if you had?"

Jax nodded. "I know, darlin', but hearing about Seattle so soon after finding out about Kyle nearly killed me. If I hadn't seen the bruises myself, I wouldn't have believed your dad. That's why I ran off to Reno. It was either get away or give in and keep you with me. I loved you too damn much to keep risking your life. By the time I realized what I had done and that the only way to keep you safe was right by my side, you had fallen off the grid."

Jolene could see the self-loathing in his beautiful eyes. They were ripping bandages off of old wounds and it was remarkable to Jolene how fresh and new the pain felt. But knowing they had made a vow to stand strong together to weather any storm, Jolene knew that in spite of all of her tears tonight, tomorrow was a new day.

Jolene wrapped her arms around him and kissed him tenderly. "No more secrets?"

"No more secrets." Jax let himself smile. Letting himself fall on the bed with Jolene underneath him, Jax proceeded to seal the new pact he had just made with his old lady by making love to her.

Tomorrow would indeed be a new day and, come what may, tonight had made them stronger.

* * *

With the French doors open out onto the balcony, Jax could see the dark sky twinkling with bright stars. Despite the fact that it was so late, the couple was still wide awake. Clinging to each other under the royal blue comforter, Jax listened as Jolene had opened up about her difficult pregnancy with Abel, going into greater detail of the complications that had plagued both mother and child after Abel was born.

Part of him wanted to throttle his pig-headedly proud old lady. Although knowing such vital information beforehand may have affected his desire to have more children, the fact that the woman he loved was already carrying his child made Jax more determined to make sure she got the care she needed to thrive. The other part of him, the bigger part, was awestruck that through sheer force of her own will, Jolene had overcome so much without him.

Emotionally drained and exhausted, Jax rubbed his face with one hand as the other arm cradled his old lady to his chest.

"You look tired, baby." Jolene was looking up at him with those wide, beautiful pools brimming with love and concern.

"I am," Jax replied. "But I feel like I can take on the world, Jo. No more secrets, not between us, darlin'. Secrets will only hurt us and can be used to tear us apart."

"I know," Jolene suddenly sat up. "That's why there's still a few things you need to know about."

Jax sat up and turned on the switch that illuminated the entire room. He could now see the resolute look on his wife's face.

Jolene swallowed the lump in her throat. "The first time I met Stahl wasn't a couple of weeks ago. It was eight months before I came back to Charming and it's a long story, so maybe I should just give you the highlights."

Jax rubbed his face roughly with both hands. "I don't think so, Jo." Grasping hold of her chin, Jax forced Jolene to look into a pair of determined blue eyes. "Start from the beginning and tell me everything—"

"_Now_."


	11. This Not So Charming Life

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**A/N: First off, I can't tell you how happy ya'll have made me! The reviews that I have received so far for this story have been awesome, but you really blew me away with the reviews for Chapter 10. A really big thanks to the 14 readers who took the time to review. I really appreciate it, especially when you give insightful comments on what moved you about the chapter. The only problem is—now that you've spoiled me rotten—I'm going to expect the love hits to keep rolling in for every single chapter! ;)**

**On another note, I wanted to let you know that my muse has decided that I should update my one-shot, SAMCRO Princess. As you may recall, it is the first prequel explaining how Jolene Morrow became part of the SAMCRO family. I will post two more chapters to complete this story to cover Jolene's first year in Charming, so if you haven't already done so, please sign up for story/author alerts. Poor Clay and Bobby have their hands full. I plan to post Chapter 2 of this story sometime this week.**

**Again, thanks for reading. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Two years earlier_.

Westbrook Academy was a private college preparatory boarding school located in Redmond, Washington. Westbrook, founded in 1895, was one of the oldest schools in the nation and boasted a worldwide reputation, making it a popular choice for international students seeking an American education. The small student body allowed each pupil a specialized and individual curriculum emphasizing independent learning in conjunction with a vigorous academic college preparatory program.

The school's motto, _Character, Honor and, Charity Above All Else_, was as part of the curriculum as math and science with many students going on to medical or law school. Westbrook alumni have gone on to serve in public office and head non-profit organizations. Others have excelled in doing humanitarian work, such as a former student from France who went on after medical school to create with other doctors the international medical humanitarian organization Doctors Without Borders in 1971.

The campus was situated on five acres of land just outside the city limits. The school, surrounded by the estates of the rich and powerful families of Redmond, seemed to be trapped in time.

After parking in her reserved space in the faculty parking lot, Jolene Morrow got out of her dilapidated Volvo grateful to have made it to work without it breaking down again. After grabbing her messenger bag, Jolene slammed the door and leaned against her car. Looking up at the beautiful, turn-of-the-century red brick building, Jolene shook her head in wonderment.

_How in the hell did I end up here?_

As she strode towards the building in the heather gray skirt suit and white blouse required by all the female faculty to wear, Jolene shook her head slightly to clear thoughts of her former life from her mind. Teaching the nation's elite at Westbrook Academy was as far from living the Life in an MC world as a person could get. Yet every time she set foot on campus, Jolene was reminded how much she missed that life in Charming that now seemed like only a dream.

Making the decision to leave Charming, her family and the love of her life, Jax Teller had been one of the most difficult decisions Jolene had ever been faced with. Starting off fresh in San Diego had been made easier by her mentor Pat Doyle, who had secured her a place to live and an internship in the span of three days. Always personable and outgoing, she had quickly made friends and settled into her new situation, but Jolene hated it. She was heartbroken and lonely without her old man and missed her family something fierce.

So when, about a month into her San Diego exile, Jolene discovered she was pregnant, she had seriously considered going back home. She had even started packing again when Jax suddenly showed up in San Diego. Memories of a younger Jax coming to see her in Seattle against a family court order, while she had been living with the egg donor, came rushing back. She fought her inner teenager and won the battle to keep herself from running into his arms. Soon, all of the feelings of anger, hurt, and shame came rolling back, reminding her why she had left Charming and Jax in the first place.

As much as she loved and missed him, it hadn't helped matters when it became apparent that Jax had only come to San Diego for a helping of road pussy. She was devastated and humiliated all over again when he told her that nothing would change between them if they did end up making love again one more time. San Diego was where she belonged, he had said. As far away from him as possible. Call it stubborn pride or call it what you will, but Jolene refused to let the man she had loved all of her life turn her from an old lady into a sweetbutt, especially not when she had only just learned two days before that she was carrying his baby.

In anger and frustration, Jolene walked out on the love of her life for a second time without looking back.

At that point, Jolene's pride had kicked into overdrive. She knew Jax well enough to realize that once he found out about her pregnancy he would probably drag her ass back to Charming. With her self-worth suffering a number of humiliating blows, culminating in the croweater throw down on the day she decided to leave, Jolene had convinced herself that Jax would only ask her to come back home out of a sense of obligation to the child she carried.

After his betrayal with the Reno Whore, Jolene had started to wonder if Jax had ever really loved her at all. Before she ever set foot in Charming again, Jolene needed to know that Jax loved her and wanted her back for her and her alone. Not out of his need to protect as if she were some damsel in distress. There was also her fear, after hearing him say that nothing would change between them, that Jax wouldn't want her to have the baby at all. And that simply was not going to happen.

Knowing that Jax would continue making under the radar visits to San Diego, Jolene knew that nothing would stop him from making contact again once her pregnancy became obvious. She needed to lay low until she sorted out the mess that her life had become. Fleeing San Diego, Jolene went to the one outsider she knew she could trust.

Jolene Morrow and Veronica "Ronnie" Armstrong had been friends ever since the day 11 year old Jolene came to Ronnie's rescue when cornered on the playground at school by a bully.

Ronnie not only welcomed her friend with open arms, she moved Jolene into her small two bedroom home located in a low-income neighborhood ten miles outside downtown Seattle. Jolene was able to secure a job as a substitute teacher in a high school nearby and even managed to start working towards her Master's Degree again. But Jolene's pregnancy had been a difficult one and, after giving birth to a premature Abel, it had taken Jolene several months to fully recover as her baby fought to stay alive. Having used up all of her maternity leave, the school could no longer afford to keep her on the payroll and, in spite of her stellar reputation as a teacher, she was let go.

By the time Abel was released from the hospital, Ronnie had used her alumni status to secure Jolene an interview with the Headmaster of her alma mater, Westbrook Academy. Scott Harris had been impressed by Jolene's college credentials and recommendations. The new Headmaster, in his effort to breathe some life into the outdated and stuffy school, was actively recruiting fresh, young blood ready to stimulate the young minds at Westbrook. One of his first hires was Jolene Morrow.

The Board of Trustees, unfortunately, was not as impressed or enthusiastic with the otherwise polished and brilliant young teacher, especially when Jolene advised them that she was an unwed mother. In spite of the fact that Jolene had less than a year of teaching experience, however, the Headmaster fought to bring Jolene on board and had won.

Having fallen behind on payments of Abel's hospital bills and medical expenses, Jolene was grateful that Headmaster Harris had seen potential in her and Jolene worked hard not to disappoint. With health insurance as part of her employment package at Westbrook, the generous salary she was now making not only allowed Jolene to make significant payments towards her debts, but allowed her to finally move out of Ronnie's home and into a small apartment.

Surprising many of the faculty at Westbrook Academy, the young Math teacher quickly became quite popular with her students. While her no-nonsense attitude kept the students in line, her modern and inclusive approach to teaching probably the most boring subject in creation, kept them engaged and involved. Also, it didn't hurt being young and attractive when the average age of the teaching staff was 48.

Despite being treated like an outsider by some of her more stern co-workers, Jolene loved her job, loved teaching, and loved being able to make her own way in the world and take care of her son.

Jolene smiled as she was greeted by a group of students hanging out in the Common Area of the Main Hall. Hefting her bag firmly against her side, she waved back at the students and headed towards her classroom to get started on her day.

* * *

Leaving school one late Friday afternoon after practicing with a group of "math-letes" preparing for the U.S. Mathematical Olympiad, Jolene walked towards her car in the Academy's parking lot. Opening her car door, Jolene's brow wrinkled as she watched two men pull up in a late model black sedan in front of her car, essentially blocking her from exiting her spot. Noticing the seemingly standard-issue cheap gray suits that screamed _federal agent_,Jolene wondered what the hell was going on. The taller of the two men flashed a badge in her face.

_Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. Holy fuckin' shit!_

"Good afternoon, Ms. Morrow. My name is Special Agent Estevez and this is Special Agent Smith." One man nodded towards the other. "We need your assistance and would appreciate if you would come with us."

Incredulous, Jolene could barely keep herself from laughing derisively. "Really? Why would the federal government need the assistance of a high school math teacher?"

The man smiled disarmingly. "It would be best if the Special Agent in charge filled you in on the details."

"Then I suggest the _Special Agent in charge_ contact me directly and make an appointment for some other time because now isn't good for me. I have a young son I need to get home to right now." Jolene went to open her car door wider in order to get in, but was stopped abruptly as Agent Smith practically slammed the door shut.

"I think it's in the best interest of everyone if you just came with us right now." Agent Smith said from behind his dark shades.

Glaring at both federal agents, Jolene noted the curious stares of several faculty members who had just exited the school. With a few stopping to watch the scene unfold, Jolene decided that it probably would be in her best interest not to make a spectacle of herself on school grounds. Locking her car, Jolene followed the agents and got into the back seat of the nondescript vehicle.

* * *

By the time Jolene was escorted into the gray and worn government building in downtown Seattle, she had had enough. The agents who had brought her in had not been forthcoming with any information. On the contrary, most of her questions had gone ignored and unanswered. The ATF obviously knew of her connection to the Sons and over the course of the hour's drive into Seattle, Jolene's unease and fear grew at a steady pace. Something must have happened back home. The possibility that someone was under arrest or dead was starting to look very real from her perspective.

Cracking her neck to loosen the tension and standing up straight, Jolene quickly fell into old lady mode. Almost smiling at how comfortable it felt to don that demeanor once more, Jolene cleared her mind and put her game face on. If this little trip into Emerald City had anything to do with the MC, the Feds had just wasted gas money because they weren't getting shit out of her.

Installed in an interrogation room, Jolene spent the next hour waiting for someone to tell her what was going on. Becoming more impatient the later it got and with Abel at the forefront of her mind, Jolene was about to lose her mud when a tall blonde entered the room, sat down across from her, and crossed her legs.

"Hello, Jolene. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." She smiled thinly and Jolene came to the quick conclusion that the woman wasn't a damn bit sorry. "My name is Special Agent June Stahl and I want to thank you for coming in today."

Jolene flashed a "bitch, please" smirk at the agent. "Can we just cut to the chase and end all this cloak and dagger bullshit? You know as well as I do that me 'coming in' wasn't exactly voluntary."

Stahl smiled at Jolene, genuinely amused by the young woman's no-nonsense approach and cool demeanor. "No it wasn't, was it? Honestly, Jolene, what were my chances of getting you to come in voluntarily, anyway?"

"Probably slim-to-none." Jolene replied candidly.

"You see, that's exactly what I thought." Stahl chuckled. "And for being honest with me, I _will_ cut to the chase. You are here because I have been tasked to waste government resources investigating a group of white trash bikers. I didn't want this case, didn't ask for it, yet here I am. You are here because you, my dear, have direct ties to the MC known as the Sons of Anarchy, the Redwood Originals. Further, we have a firm belief that discussing your _former_ SAMCRO association with me will shed light on the events leading up to a shooting that took place several years ago in Charming, California."

At the agent's revelation, Jolene sat back in her seat, her posture relaxed. "Why is the ATF investigating an incident in a small town like Charming?"

"Just take me through the events of that day as you remember them." Stahl ignored her question.

"What makes you think I even know what you're taking about?" Jolene retorted quizzically.

Stahl narrowed her eyes at Jolene. "Because you were one of the victims. The other being Jackson "Jax" Teller, the Vice President of SAMCRO."

"Oh, that incident. Why didn't you say so?" Jolene slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Actually, my recollection of that day is a matter of public record, Agent Stahl. All you have to do is contact the San Joaquin Sheriff's Department. I'm sure they'll fax you a copy of my statement."

"Humor me, Jolene." Stahl replied.

Quickly growing tired of busting balls, Jolene reasoned that the quicker she cooperated, the faster she would be on her way home to Abel, so she repeated the standard story that had indeed become a part of the public record. As Stahl questioned Jolene point-by-point regarding her statement, it became apparent just what Stahl's agenda was. Even though Jolene had essentially fallen off the grid and lost contact with everyone from back home, she had no intention of rolling on the Club. _Ever_. It was clear that Agent Stahl was quickly losing patience with her line of questioning as Jolene kept her answers brief and to the point and her commentary snarky.

"I find it surprising that you weren't able to make the shooter, considering your vantage point." Stahl said casually.

"Regardless of what surprises you," Jolene replied evenly. "That's how it is. I was diagnosed as suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder before I left the hospital. My doctor advised that I may never be able to reconstruct the full events of that night and that it would be in my best interest not to try."

"How convenient." Stahl's thin-lipped grimace made her look like she was trying to smile through some sort of pain. "There's no indication in your medical file that you ever sought treatment for PTSD. You have no desire to unlock your memories of that night? For closure?"

"I've moved on with my life."

"Yes. I see." Stahl closed the file that was in front of her. "I guess that was the smart thing to do. I'm sure that almost dying bloody simply because you loved an outlaw has to give a woman, _a young mother_, a new perspective on life."

Jolene was clenching her jaw so tight it was starting to hurt. "My reasons for leaving Charming are my own," She replied coolly. "And they have nothing to do with what happened that night."

"Still, it was a smart move. Getting rid of the stink associated with an MC is really hard to do. Coming to Seattle and starting over must have been very hard. I commend you for your efforts. It must have been especially difficult leaving your baby daddy. Is he aware that he has a son? An heir to the SAMCRO throne?" The agent smiled sardonically.

"What part of 'my reasons are my own' did you not understand, Agent Stahl?" Jolene asked angrily.

"You really must learn to direct your hostility at the proper source, dear." Stahl said slyly. "I'm just trying to get a handle on your situation. The fact is, Jolene, I'm on your side and I sympathize with you." Reaching out, Stahl placed her hand on top of Jolene's and patted it. "It's heartwrenching, actually, when you consider everything you had to go through with your son, alone. You almost lost him, what, two, three times? Dr. Steinman is one of the best pediatric surgeons in Seattle. Abel is a very lucky little boy."

Jolene pulled her hand away from Stahl's and looked into her eyes as she continued her commentary on Jolene's life choices. "With the large debt you've amassed for Abel's healthcare, it's going to be a long time before you are financially solvent. The federal government would like to help you with that."

"I don't need help from anyone." Jolene replied coolly, looking Stahl in the eye.

"We could crunch the numbers, if you'd like, but I'm willing to bet that even with the great salary you're pulling, it's going to be a very long time before you can really give Abel the best life has to offer. And let's face it, you've already given him a great start by just getting away from Bumblefuck, USA and those dirty bikers. By getting away from SAMCRO, you have managed to reinvent your life, allowing you to do what's right for your family. Now, the federal government would like to help you out so that you can continue doing well on your own."

"And what must I do in return for that _help_?" Jolene growled softly.

"All you would have to do is provide us with some information regarding the Club. Believe me, your cooperation will go a long way in keeping you and your son safe from that band of outlaws." Stahl smiled thinly.

With a smile on her face, Jolene replied. "Band of outlaws? That certainly sounds very exciting. Sorta like Robin Hood and his Merry Men, huh? Unfortunately for you, the Club I know is comprised mostly of mechanics and Harley enthusiasts. Aside from that, I know nothing."

Stahl leaned back in her chair. "I am truly sorry to hear that your PTSD has affected you so greatly. It has managed to wipe out years of bearing witness to the illegal activities of not only your father and your old man, but their brothers as well. Since you don't need therapy because you've 'moved on' with your life, maybe a little '_me time_' might clear up your perspective. After all, all I really want to do is help you, Jolene. What harm can come from that? I can make life very easy for you and your son," Stahl said sharply. "Or the exact opposite. I suggest you sleep on it."

Standing up, Stahl walked to the door, opened it, and called for Agent Smith's attention. "Agent, please escort Ms. Morrow to Detention Room No. 4."

* * *

Without being able to contact anyone, Jolene was held in federal custody overnight. After two more sessions with Stahl, where Jolene reiterated in no uncertain terms what she thought of the federal government's _gracious_ offer, she was finally released late Saturday morning.

Dropped off at Westbrook to retrieve her car, Jolene was frantic to get in contact with Ronnie. As Jolene drove one-handed, she tried to dial Ronnie on her cell phone with the other, only to find out that her battery had died. Frustrated, Jolene threw the cell phone onto the passenger seat of the car and sped along the highway to get to Ronnie's house, about a 40 minute drive from Westbrook.

So intent was Jolene to get home, she barely registered the sound of the siren.

"Fuuuuck!" Jolene slammed her hand on the steering wheel as she pulled onto the shoulder of the highway. Dealing with another asshole with a badge was absolutely the last thing she needed and, unfortunately for Jolene, it wasn't going to get any better.

Jolene rolled down her window and looked up at the nearly 6½ foot State Trooper wearing mirrored sunglasses.

Bending over, the officer demanded in a hard voice. "License and registration."

Scrambling through her purse, Jolene pulled out her wallet and retrieved her license. "Look, officer, I know that I was going a little fast, but I've been out of touch with my family. I desperately need to get to my baby because my sitter has no idea where I've been for the last 18 hours."

Unfortunately, the officer had no sympathy whatsoever to spare. "Your child care issues are not my problem, ma'am. Your speeding on the highway is. License and registration. Now."

Muttering under her breath, Jolene reached over to open the glove box to retrieve her registration. As she flipped it open, she belatedly remembered what was inside.

Sitting in the middle of the compartment in clear view on the officer, Jolene's Glock shone brightly in the late morning sun.

"I want your hands where I can see them!" Barked the Officer as he pulled his service revolver and aimed it at Jolene. "NOW!"

_Can I possibly make this shit any worse? Let's try, shall we?_

As Jolene put her hands up, the officer opened her car door and nearly dragged her out of her seat, throwing her up against the hood of the car. Suddenly, the SAMCRO Princess came to life once again and before she could rein herself in, Jolene started spewing obscenities directed at the State Trooper and his lack of genitalia.

"You dickless wonder! You like it rough, huh? You must 'cause I'm cooperating, so there's really no need to toss me about like we're on a date!"

"Shut up!" The officer yelled at her, his mouth close to her ear. He had Jolene pinned to the car as he slapped the handcuffs on her, tighter than necessary.

"I have a permit for that gun, you know?" Jolene asked calmly. "No, you wouldn't know, douche bag, because you didn't bother to ask. What can you expect from a pig in a uniform! At least they taught you how to walk upright, which must save you a ton on dry cleaning."

Without another word, the Trooper dragged Jolene to the back of his cruiser and tossed her in.

Yeah, she could definitely make this shit worse.

* * *

Several hours later, pulling up in front of Ronnie's house, Jolene saw the front door fly open as her dear friend ran out of the house with Abel in her arms.

"Where the hell have you been?" Ronnie shrieked.

She wasn't alone as Abel was crying loudly, "Mama! Mama!"

Jolene dropped her messenger bag on the ground and scooped Abel up in her arms. Hugging him close to her chest, Jolene dropped a thousand kisses on his sweet smelling blond head.

Wrapping one arm around Ronnie, Jolene squeezed her reassuringly. "I'm okay and I'll tell you everything, but let's go inside first. No need to give your neighbors a show."

* * *

Friends since grade school, Jolene and Ronnie's relationship survived in spite of the distance when Ronnie's father relocated his family to Seattle soon after Jolene had started middle school. After Jolene's flight from San Diego, Ronnie had opened her modest home and welcomed a pregnant Jolene with open arms. The history they shared, however, did not deter Ronnie from calling her friend out on what she thought was a horrific error in judgment on Jolene's part. First, by leaving Charming and second, by running away to Seattle instead of returning home.

While Ronnie had never seen Jolene and Jax Teller together, there had been no doubt from the many conversations and correspondences they had shared over the years that Jax and Jolene loved each other heart, mind, body and soul. She confirmed it for herself when five months after Jolene had arrived in Seattle, Jax had shown up looking for his old lady.

Had Jolene not been in the house when Jax arrived, Ronnie would have invited him in and would have completely spilled the beans on Jolene's whereabouts. But with her friend standing right there and pleading with her, Ronnie could not betray Jolene's friendship right in her face, so she lied and watched the heartbroken biker walk out of Jolene's life.

Over the next year and a half, Ronnie did everything she could to help Jolene and Abel. She had even convinced her father to use his government connections and high security clearance to help Jolene bury her trail from her family.

Now, as Ronnie sat in the living room listening to Jolene's account of her run-in with the ATF, she started to wonder what Jolene had really been running from when she left Charming.

"Maybe you need to contact someone back home." Ronnie suggested. "Something must have happened for the ATF to start digging up the past again."

Jolene, who had finally been able to calm down, was sitting on the couch opposite her friend. "No. I call home and I play right into that bitch's hand. That's exactly what she expects me to do."

Ronnie ran her hands through her short, spiky blond hair. "She's pressuring you for what, exactly? What can you possibly know that would be worth dangling that big fat bribe to pay off Abel's medical expenses? What kind of information was she hoping you'd give up?"

"I have no clue." Jolene lied. "She spent a helluva lot of time questioning me about the night I got shot." She said, picking up Abel and carefully throwing him up in the air.

As she caught him, Abel giggled hysterically. "More, Mama, more!"

"How about you take a bath with Mama, hmm, baby?"

Abel nodded his head emphatically as he played with her hair. "Play wit boats and bubbles?"

"Absolutely." Jolene looked over at Ronnie. "You mind if we crash here after we take a bath? I really rather not be alone after the night I've had."

"Sure, sweetie. Just promise you'll make breakfast for dinner and you can crash the whole weekend. Abel really missed Mommy's pancakes this morning." Ronnie advised.

"Cooking still not your strong suit?" Jolene kidded.

"Nope," Ronnie smiled cheekily as she led Jolene to her old bedroom. "And I haven't had a decent breakfast since you moved out. Hey, how about whipping up a batch of those killer blueberry muffins, too?"

Caught off guard, Jolene felt her heart tightening in her chest as she thought of her Uncle Elvis. Since leaving Charming, she had made several attempts at replicating his signature organic blueberry muffins and, in her mind, had failed miserably.

"Sure, why not?" Jolene replied with a slightly sad smile, suddenly homesick. "Anything else you wanna stuff in that hollow leg of yours?" She teased, channeling Piney.

* * *

The rest of the weekend had been uneventful. Jolene had taken Abel to the park and shopping and had prepared a roast for Sunday dinner, a tradition she had borrowed from Gemma and which had become part of their normal routine. Ronnie had even invited several musician and artist friends in hopes of taking Jolene's mind off her troubles.

After putting Abel down for the night, Jolene sat with Ronnie and her friends in the backyard illuminated by colorful Japanese lanterns. A few brought out their guitars and started playing and singing, as one of Ronnie's friends, a painter and art dealer by the name of Isaac, chatted Jolene up while plying her with cheap red wine. Jolene tried to playfully wave off his obvious attraction to her, but Jolene kept finding herself drawn to the blond with the slightly longish hair and blue eyes.

The attention did wonders for Jolene's self-confidence and the distraction had allowed her to stop dwelling on the possible ramifications of her meeting with Agent Stahl. But realizing that Isaac was serious about his pursuit of her, Jolene excused herself a little before eleven o'clock, using work the next day as the reason. No point in leading the man on when even she could see that her main attraction to him in the first place was that he physically reminded her of the one she couldn't be with.

The one that a few months ago, according to David Hale, had upped and married the Reno Whore!

_Can't be with the one you love? Then love the one you're with?_

Nah, Jolene wasn't wired that way. She had proven that to herself several months ago by hooking up with Hale and actually sleeping with him on the rebound, only to hate herself afterwards. Feeling like she had betrayed Jax, Jolene had broken down into tears every time she thought about her one night with Hale. But just as quickly, her tears for the man her heart would always belong to turned into ire. Once again, she had been forced to unpack after coming close to going back to Charming, this time with Abel, only to have Jax do something epically stupid that broke her heart all over again.

But her non-existent love life was the last thing on her mind as Jolene pulled into the Westbrook parking lot early Monday morning, only to find out that Agent Stahl was playing hard ball.

Waiting for her at the Academy's main doors was Ada Wilson, the Headmaster's Executive Assistant.

"Miss Morrow, I'm glad I caught you. The Headmaster needs to see you in his office right away."

Jolene ran her hand through her dark curls. "Is there a problem?"

The assistant avoided looking directly into Jolene's piercing green eyes. "I think it's best if you speak to him directly."

Jolene sighed. Yeah, that's how her meeting with the Feds started and ended up going nowhere good fast. Lugging her messenger bag, she followed Ada towards the Headmaster's office located on the second floor.

Jolene's heart skipped a beat as she entered the office. Not only was the Headmaster there, but also present were two members of the Board of Trustees.

The Chair of the Board, Mrs. Corrine Van Duren, was sitting in the Headmaster's chair. The 70-something year old woman nodded her head at the single chair placed in front of the Headmaster's desk. "Miss Morrow, please take a seat."

Sitting down in the straight back chair, Jolene folded her hands in her lap and waited for the hammer to fall on her head.

Mrs. Van Duren clasped her hands together. "As you know, Miss Morrow, I had some misgivings when we first offered you a position here at Westbrook." Giving the Headmaster a sharp look, she continued. "It has now come to the attention of the Board of Trustees that I was right to have these feelings."

Standing directly behind Mrs. Van Duren was Donald Chambers, Co-Chair of the Board. "It has come to our attention that you, Miss Morrow, have a criminal record that had not been disclosed to the Academy during the vetting process prior to your engagement here at Westbrook." Handing a file to Jolene, Mr. Chambers continued. "Please review the contents of the file and explain."

With narrowed eyes, Jolene opened the file to see her arrest report and subsequent court filings from the Juvenile court system in San Joaquin.

Addressing Mr. Chambers, Jolene replied, "Yes, this is my _juvenile _record, which I was told would remain sealed after my eighteenth birthday, and yes, the circumstances described herein are correct." Jolene made eye contact with the Headmaster. "But what is not reflected here is that I completed my probation well within the time allotted, nor are the letters and statements submitted on my behalf recommending that this incident be stricken from my record. Four of my teachers from Charming Excelsior Prep, my supervisors at Habit for Humanity, as well as my guidance counselors all praised my academic record and work for the nonprofit organization. Since the incident, which I took full responsibility for," Jolene tossed the file onto the Headmaster's desk. "My reputation as well as my record has remained spotless. How exactly did the Board of Trustees come by this information?"

"A responsible government official felt duty bound to inform us of your past indiscretion." Mr. Chambers replied pompously.

"Despite your defense of this indiscretion and even though you have shown yourself to be an extremely capable teacher here at Westbrook, this Academy has a reputation to uphold and a responsibility to our students." Mrs. Van Duren intoned. "We've already compromised the Academy's standards by hiring an unwed mother, and now, with your family history coming to light as a result of the information contained in this file, we simply cannot expose our students to the dangers and nefarious influences you yourself were so obviously exposed to during your youth as part of a motorcycle gang." She said distastefully.

Feeling not only her tongue go numb, but part of her face as well, Jolene practically jumped to her feet, not realizing the threatening picture she painted with her hands balled up into fists. "I was never part of a 'motorcycle gang'. I was raised by a loving and caring family who protected me and gave me the stability that every child deserves." Jolene retorted. "I take great offense to you casting aspersions on them."

"Be that as it may, due to your failure to advise us of your criminal background and your failure to uphold the moral turpitude clause of your employment contract, it is the decision of the Board of Trustees to terminate your employment, effective immediately." Rising to her feet, Mrs. Van Duren pressed the intercom button on the phone on the desk.

As the door to the Headmaster's office opened, a security guard entered the office, along with the Head of Personnel. "You will follow Miss Bailey, who will give you your exit packet, after which time you will be escorted off of the grounds."

As the security guard reached to grab Jolene's arm, she snatched it away. "You _do not_ want to touch me."

Looking at the sorrowful face of Headmaster Harris, Jolene Morrow held her head up high as she exited the office.

* * *

Two months had passed since Jolene had been fired from Westbrook and she was still unemployed. Jolene had papered every school district in the surrounding area for 100 miles with her résumé and had not even managed to get an interview.

It was a former colleague who finally clued Jolene into what she had suspected, but didn't want to believe. Dina Brewster, an English teacher for 15 years at Westbrook, met her for lunch at Jolene's favorite diner and broke the news to her.

"I am so sorry, Jolene, but you might as well as take this downtime and look into changing careers." Dina started sympathetically as she stabbed a piece of romaine in her Caesar salad with a fork. "The Board of Trustees is packed with a bunch uppity blowhards with a lot of time on their hands. Unfortunately, they have a long reach and a lot of influence. I honestly don't think you'll ever be able to teach in Seattle again. Getting fired from Westbrook Academy is bad enough, but you have the stigma of a violation of the morality clause of your contract attached. I've seen teachers dismissed for violating the _dress code_ one too many times have a hard time getting hired, even by the public schools."

Along with the burden of struggling to find a job, the bottom had finally fallen out of Jolene's savings. Not only was she seriously behind in paying her living expenses, more importantly, without health insurance once again, she was having trouble keeping up with Abel's medical bills. Ronnie urged her to move back in with her and Jolene was seriously starting to consider it.

To make matters worse, Abel had to be hospitalized again for the third time in ten months. The Hospital Administrator, although sympathetic, had to lay down the law. If Jolene failed to start making payments again and soon, the hospital would no longer be able to treat Abel. He would be transferred to a county hospital with a less than stellar reputation for pediatric care, which could put her son's health and life at risk.

Ronnie wanted to help, even offering to swallow her pride and go to her parents for money. Ronnie rarely connected with her wealthy parents because they were at odds with her bohemian lifestyle as a tattoo artist, but she would do it for her friend. Jolene wouldn't let her, however, reasoning that if she herself was too stubborn to contact her own family for help, she certainly wasn't going to put her friend in that position, not after all Ronnie had done for her already.

Determined to help, Ronnie reached out to her father. Always the apple of his eye, in spite of her lifestyle choices, Russell Armstrong would do anything for his daughter and once again used his government connections and high security clearance to help her childhood friend. This time, however, he was to dig up dirt on Special Agent June Stahl.

It was clear since her firing from Westbrook that the ATF agent was on a mission to destroy whatever progress Jolene had made on her own, hoping to make her desperate enough to turn on her family. Knowing that Stahl was not going to give up on her, Jolene was determined to be prepared for their next encounter. If there was one thing that Jolene had learned during her MC upbringing it was to be a good judge of character and someone willing to play dirty and risk the life of an innocent child must have some skeletons in their closet. Of that Jolene was sure of.

In the meantime, caught between a rock and a hard place, Jolene took any job that became available to her. From tutoring, to walking dogs, and painting houses, Jolene was at a point where she would do just about anything to keep her son under Dr. Steinman's care. Unfortunately, minimum wage wasn't cutting it and she hadn't managed to make a dent in Abel's medical bills.

A co-worker at the fast food restaurant Jolene was currently working in, another single mother like herself, told her of a waitressing gig where Jolene could make good money. It certainly wouldn't be as uplifting as teaching, but it paid well, especially for someone as pretty as Jolene. It sure beat flipping burgers and would free up her days to spend with her son.

Prideful she may be, but Jolene loved her son far too much to let something as meaningless as her pride get in the way. Standing outside the elegant building housing the upscale gentlemen's club, Jolene watched the constant stream of activity as people came and went. For the second time in two months, Jolene took a deep breath and slipped into biker bitch mode before stepping inside The Lollipop Café for her audition with the owner.

* * *

_Present Day_.

Sitting cross-legged in the center of their huge and rumpled bed in her underwear and tank top, Jolene was looking at Jax with wide, near panicked eyes. Jax, leaning against the headboard, was quiet, lost in thought, his face betraying nothing and he was scaring the shit out of Jolene.

"Baby," She started nervously, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please say something." It was still incomprehensible to her how he had managed to remain silent as she at long last filled him in on her time in Seattle.

Finally, looking up at Jolene with eyes as wide as her own, Jax replied, "This is a lot to process, Jo."

"I know," Jolene said, her heart breaking. "And I'm so sorry, Jax."

As she started to get off the bed, she felt Jax's hands on her small waist pulling her back until she was resting against the granite wall of his torso.

"Babe," He breathed into her tangled mass of curls close to her ear. "Stop running away from me." Nudging her chin with his thumb and index finger until she turned her head towards him, Jax kissed her softly. "We're done running from each other, deal?"

"Deal." Jolene tried to smile, but failed. Turning to face him full on, she was kneeling on the bed before him and cupped his face in her trembling hands. "You forgive me?"

Jax shook his head slightly as he grabbed both of her hands. Bringing them to his lips, he kissed each one reverently. "There's nothing to forgive, Jo." He said sincerely. "Tonight's not about assigning blame, darlin'. It's to make sure that no one ever tries to use what we have together to tear us apart. Besides, if whatever mistakes we've made were necessary in order to get us where we are now, it's all been worth it, darlin'. I love you more now than I ever thought I could."

Jolene wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. "I still love you more."

Jax smiled as he gently massaged the small of his wife's back. "There's just one thing I need to know, darlin'." Pulling back slightly, Jolene was looking at him once again and waited. She knew where this was going. "Just what exactly is The Lollipop Café and what did you have to do to audition?"

_God, I know him so well!_

"I told you. It's a gentlemen's club."

"I know, babe, but—" Jax took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "How much of your clothes came off?"

"None!" Jolene replied incredulously as Jax quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "Okay, _almost_ none, but before you flip out, it was more of an upscale coffeehouse. And all I had to do to audition was walk around in lingerie."

Jolene stopped to gauge his reaction. When Jax only blinked at her, she continued. "I worked as a waitress who served drinks while wearing sexy underwear."

"What the fuck?" Jax asked incredulously, biting his lip, trying to hide a grin.

Taking his response as anger, Jolene broke free and jumped off the bed, blurting out the rest. "On alternating nights, instead of waitressing, I worked the pole. I wore silly costumes and danced, okay? It was burlesque and actually quite tasteful and classy for your information!"

Jax ran his hand over his mustache and the hair on his chin to hide his expression. "Ugh! Knowing you, you probably weren't any good at it." He intentionally goaded her.

And just as Jax had hoped, Jolene's type A-personality kicked in full throttle. Whipping around, the suddenly feisty woman put her fists on her hips.

"The hell you say! I was the best damn waitress in that place, and I _owned_ that pole on Tuesdays, Thursdays, _and_ Saturdays! Besides, a woman doesn't have to be completely naked to be sexy, you know? And even if you don't know and don't like it anyway, I don't give a shit! I did what I had to do to take care of Abel and one night swinging around a pole at the Café would net me the same as two-weeks pay flipping burgers! Still don't like it, you can pucker up and kiss my butt!" Muttering under her breath, she stomped towards their bedroom door, only to be swooped up into the air and planted on their bed.

"Jesus Christ, woman! I'm sorry for pissing in your Cheerios." Jax laughed as he tried to hold onto his wife while avoiding a knee to the balls. Jolene was so intent on struggling out of her husband's arms that she barely registered what he had to say next. "One day, Jo, I'm gonna need you to demonstrate your pole work."

Jolene stopped struggling and looked up into the grinning eyes of her old man. "You're not mad?" She whispered.

"Did any of the lingerie come off?" Jax demanded.

"No!" Jolene replied indignantly as she averted Jax's eyes. "At least not all of it." She finished in a small voice.

Jax closed his eyes and took a deep breath, while Jolene held hers.

_Flared nostrils are never a good sign_.

"You know what?" Jax suddenly pushed himself off the bed, bringing Jolene along with him, her legs around his waist. He could feel her trembling against him. "As long as you don't intend on riding the pole at the Clubhouse, I don't give a shit. Don't get me wrong, darlin'. The idea of you dancing for other men ain't exactly what I wanted to hear. It kills me that that's what you had to do to take care of our son, but those men, all they could ever have of you was the visual, babe, because you belong to me. Always have, and always will."

Jolene's body continued to quiver with relief as she ran her hands through Jax's unruly hair. "The Club doesn't need to know about my stint at The Lollipop Café, do they?"

Jax shook his head. "They'll never hear it from me."

"But they might hear it from Stahl." Jolene said hesitantly.

"That gash tried to blackmail you?" Jax asked in disbelief.

Jolene nodded. "She threatened to play the same cards at Excelsior that she had with Westbrook. I took the wind out of her sails when I told her that the School Board was well aware of my past. That's when she whipped out what was behind Door Number 2."

"The rape attempt."

"Yeah. She's trying to link the disappearances of Pretty Ricky and Kyle to me. She says the Club has a history of committing murder on my behalf. And if she presses Valentina hard enough for Intel, Stahl may have a case against us all." Jolene explained. "She said Abel would end up in a foster home when that happened."

Setting Jolene down on the bed, Jax ran his hands through his hair. The competent and strong outlaw biker was at war with the terrified man who loved his wife beyond reason.

Trying to remain calm, especially with her delicate condition, Jax tried to speak rationally. "Jo, why in the hell would you keep this shit to yourself?"

"I would have told you had _you_ told me about the psycho bitch flipping out at the station house." Jolene crossed her arms.

Jax sighed. "At the time, I honestly didn't know what to make of it, Jo. I figured that, in true Morrow fashion, you had driven her spider monkey crazy. I didn't think it was something for you to worry about, so I didn't mention it."

"Well, the fact that she did and didn't care what the consequences were just impressed on me the fact that this nut job isn't playing with a full deck." Her serious expression belied her inner anxiety. "Jax, she is _crazy_."

"Darlin', you underestimate your ability to drive someone to the brink—'' Jax started.

"Okay, I get it. I'm a pain in the ass, but you don't understand. She's a crazy bitch and I can prove it."

Jolene got up and went into her walk-in closet. When she returned, she was carrying a two-inch thick file, which she handed to Jax.

"Ronnie's dad pulled some major fuckin' strings and his people did a deep background check. Russell Armstrong managed to pull up dirt that the Feds themselves failed to uncover when they recruited her." Jolene explained. "When I first met her, I knew I was dealing with someone who had no conscience and according to the reports in that file, Stahl is a sociopath. I held onto the information because I knew she'd come after me again and I had to protect Abel."

"And when she pulled you in a few of weeks ago, you dropped the Intel in this file on her, and that's why she lost her shit at the station house?" Jax concluded.

Jolene nodded. "We came to an agreement. Well, actually, I told her how it would go down. She'd keep her pie hole shut about my life in Seattle and no one would ever know what was in that file. But during the weekend of the bike rally, it finally dawned on me that the Club was in the dark when it came to Stahl and I realized how dangerous that could be. Being the SAMCRO Pres, I was going to give the information to Dad, hoping that you'd be able to talk him off the ledge because I just knew he would probably walk into Charming PD with guns blazing. But as Acting President, I can give it to you knowing that you'll do whatever needs to be done with a cool head."

Looking into her eyes, Jax could see how earnest Jolene was. He also saw something else that he had rarely ever seen reflected in her eyes before and it sent a chill up his spine.

Fear.

"Being on my own for so long, I got used to having to handle shit on my own. By the time I came home, I had forgotten the most important lesson Dad ever taught me. Anyone wearing the Reaper is _my family_ and they will always protect me. I won't make that mistake again, Jax. Once you read that file, with what I've already told you, you'll understand what a threat that gash is to SAMCRO and to us. I trust you and I love you and I know that you and the Club will do what needs to be done to protect _our family_."

* * *

Wearing a pair of sweatpants and a SAMCRO t-shirt, Jax had spent the rest of the night sitting at the large oak desk in his man cave reading the dossier on Special Agent June Stahl. It was nearly dawn when he finally closed the file that lay on top of his desk. Leaning back in the burgundy leather executive chair as he tried to rub the exhaustion out of his eyes, Jax had come to a stunning conclusion:

_This bitch __is__ fuckin' crazy_.

His old lady had managed to dig up some explosive, career-ending, life-sentence worthy shit on the psychopath from East Texas formerly known as Claire Daniels. The throttling he wanted to give his wife would have to wait until their second son was born, but Jolene had taken a massive risk in exposing to Stahl knowledge of her secrets. His over possessiveness and need to keep his old lady within arm's distance had probably kept Jolene safe from Stahl.

Never, in all his 29 years had Jax wanted to kill someone like he wanted to kill June Stahl. Jax was not unreasonable about the choices he had made in his life. He was an outlaw and, should the long arm of the law ever catch up with him, he knew he would end up doing hard time. But that gash had crossed the line in her efforts to take down the Club when she decided to prey on his old lady and their son.

As far as Jax was concerned, Stahl was already dead. She just didn't know it yet.

In spite of his assurances to Jolene that there was nothing to forgive, Jax was having a hard time forgiving himself. Now, it was time to fix the damage that pushing Jolene away four years ago had caused. Jolene was definitely the Bonnie to his Clyde, truly the only old lady he would ever need, and there was no way he would be able to weather this storm without her riding shotgun in his life. Although he wanted nothing more than her input every step of the way as he worked to save their family and their legacy, with the new baby on the way, Jax wasn't about to risk her well-being.

Jolene gave him too much credit when she said he was a cool head. If allowed to react unrestrained, Jax could be as brutal as Clay and as bloody as Tig, but his old lady was right. Storming in with guns blazing was not the way to go.

_Brains before bullets_, he reminded himself.

Jax needed wise counsel, someone close, but even-tempered enough not to let that closeness taint their perspective.

_I need Ope_.

It remained to be seen whether he would share all of Jolene's revelations with the man she loved like a true brother, but whatever the cost, Jax himself was prepared to pay it in order to protect his family.

Against all enemies known and unknown. No matter what.


	12. Little Man and His Chopper

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**I'm so glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter. Thanks for the awesome reviews. Just keep them coming. :) **

**It's been a pretty serious ride for Jaxene over the last few chapters, so this one is a little bit on the lighter, fluffy and hopefully funny side, so I hope you all enjoy it!**

******I hope to have the second and final chapter for SAMCRO Princess up on Friday, so please remember, keep them love hits coming! Enjoy!**

* * *

"You know I can't do this without you by my side, Ope."

The two men, who had been friends practically since birth, sat side by side on a couch in the Clubhouse. With several brothers working at Bluebird and the rest in the garage, it was a quiet afternoon on the lot. The only other person in the Main Room was Half Sack, who was busy restocking the bar and out of range to hear their conversation.

At the next Church session in a few days, Jackson Teller would be installed as Interim Acting President of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original. To his mind, there was only one brother who could sit in the chair on his left to serve as his Acting Vice President.

"Listen, bro, after all the shit we talked as kids, you know I wouldn't have it any other way. It's a little bittersweet, though. I never thought it would happen quite like this." Opie replied.

Jax poured them each another shot of Jack as he shook his head. "Me neither, man."

"How's my sister-from-another-mister taking it?"

"I have a strong old lady, Ope." Jax smiled. "If she's conflicted, she's working hard not to show it. Jo's excited and happy for me, completely supportive, but I know she's sad for Clay and I can't blame her at all if she's having a tough time with this."

"Jax, more than anything, Jo's worried about her father's health, but in the end, you know she's got your back. There's no doubt in my mind about that. More important, she knows that. Don't second guess your old lady, man. She trusts you to lead the Club. We all do. After all, she's trained you pretty well." Opie said cheekily.

Jax cocked his head. "Don't you mean that the other way around, Ope?"

"Nah, I don't. It took her a minute to get you to get with the program, but now, you're good. Unfortunately, she had to work really long and hard to get you straight. Donna didn't have to train me nearly as hard to get me in line."

The two men looked at each other and started laughing. "Shit, you prolly right, man."

"Hell, I know I'm right." Opie smirked. "Jo is the only woman I know who could handle everything she's gone through with you. Donna would've kicked your ass to the curb a long time ago. I can't see anything fazing Jolene Teller and trust me, she carries your name with pride."

Jax smiled. "I love her like nothing else in this world, bro and, except for her recent craving for vanilla ice cream, cooked white rice, and raisins in the same bowl for breakfast—" Jax started as Opie grimaced, horrified. "Yeah, I know, disgusting—she's perfect. But Jo has faced some serious shit alone that she shouldn't have, and now it's shown up on the Club's doorstep. I _really_ need your help, Ope."

Seeing his pal look at him quizzically, Jax stood up, grabbing the bottle of Jack. "Let's go back to my old dorm. I don't want to risk being overheard."

* * *

"Fuck, Jax! That bitch is crazy!" Opie growled into the silence of the dorm.

"You think so too, huh? I'm only telling you this shit. Just wait 'til you read the damn file. It'll blow your fuckin' mind." Jax said before downing another shot.

It had taken Jax several days to process all that he and Jolene had shared with one another. Now that they had, he felt empowered and prepared to do what was necessary on behalf of his family and his Club.

Jax had decided to share most of what Jolene had told him with Opie, with the exception of her stint at The Lollipop Café. In the end, it wasn't important in the overall scheme of things. Instead, Jax had spent the last hour detailing Agent Stahl's efforts to force Jolene into betraying her family and the Club while she had been on her own with Abel, her most recent attempt in Charming, and finally Stahl's true identity.

Opie ran his hand through his shoulder length hair. "I knew that bitch wasn't right in the head when she threatened to charge Jo with domestic terrorism. How the hell did this crazy gash slip by the Feds? Don't they have a screening process for this kind of psycho shit?"

"According to the reports in the file, the ATF had been actively recruiting women when Stahl was first approached. Apparently, the gash tested at genius-level and impressed a lot of people. Maybe they were so hot to snag her, they got sloppy with the screening process."

"Shit, whoever gave that psycho a badge should be shot." Opie pulled a joint from his pocket, lit it, took a drag and then passed it to his brother.

"Now that we know what we're dealing with, the question is what are we gonna do about her?" Jax took a drag and exhaled.

Opie sighed as he stroked his beard. "She tried to get Jolene to roll on the Club and failed, but she's still here. Why?"

Jax stood up to pace the room. "Well, we know she was looking to link the Club to Kyle's disappearance."

"When Kyle fell off the grid, the ATF lost a rat." Opie reasoned.

"Maybe Stahl's got a Plan B for catching another rat. Jo wouldn't play into her hand, maybe she's hoping somebody else will." Jax suggested.

"Like another old lady?" Opie asked and Jax nodded. "A good old lady is like a seasoned patch, Jax. They won't flip so easily on the Club."

"At this point, bro, we can't rule it out. Stahl could have anything up her sleeve." Jax replied.

"According to Unser, that gash and Captain America are pals. You think Hale has any clue that Stahl's not firing on all cylinders and has a raging hard-on for your old lady? I have to believe targeting Jo must not sit well with Deputy Dog." Opie said.

Jax stopped pacing and gave his friend a hard look.

Opie stood up and grabbed the joint out of Jax's hand. "Come on, bro. It is so fuckin' obvious that pig has a soft spot for Jo."

"I nipped that shit." Jax growled in return.

"I'm sure you did, but unrequited love dies hard." Opie replied, throwing his hands up when Jax continued to glare. "I'm just saying, bro, we might be able to use that to our advantage."

Suddenly, Jax realized he had made the right call bringing Opie in on this. He loved Jolene like a sister, but was still capable of stepping back and not let his emotions override his common sense. The same could be said about Jax, but not when it came to his old lady. There had been just one too many close calls that the fear of losing again her was almost paralyzing.

As much as Jax hated Hale, he couldn't believe that the Deputy Chief would willingly conspire with Stahl to hurt Jolene, even if it meant taking down the Club. Although his male pride was tearing him up knowing that his best friend had clued into Hale's feelings for his wife, Jax knew Opie was right and decided to think over the possible ways to use Hale for the Club's benefit.

_Money can't buy David Hale, but he's not above bending the rules where Jolene is concerned_, Jax said to himself, thinking about the night Cara Cara was raided. Not only had Hale given his old lady special treatment by holding her in a room instead of a cell, he had leaned pretty heavy on the porn pussy Ima and convinced her to drop assault charges against Jolene.

"You realize we have to bring this to the Club _before_ Stahl makes her next move." Opie opined.

"I know, but I think it's best if we do it when Clay's not at the table." Jax suggested, surprising Opie. "He's dealing with his own bag of shit right now. Jolene's worried that something like this will set his recovery back."

Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, Jax lit one and watched as his friend sat down again. After killing the joint, with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped, Opie rubbed his forehead with his thumbs as he pondered the situation.

"You're right, bro." Opie spoke up after a long silence. "We wait and bring it to the table after you're voted in as Interim Pres. Knowing Clay, he's a reactive nut job at best and a complete psycho at his worst. His last executive decision could end up having him beating Stahl to death with his cast and federal lock-up won't help his recovery."

Jax nodded, glad that Opie agreed with his reasoning to withhold certain Intel from Clay, for now. "We still have to give the Club a head's up on Stahl. Just enough to let them know that we are not to sleep on this bitch."

"Okay, after the vote goes through, you bring up your concerns about Stahl still being in town. After Jo getting pulled in and with the Club going through a transition, it only makes sense to keep an eye out on all of our women, just in case Stahl decides to strike when she thinks we're at our most vulnerable. Later, we hold a separate meet here at the Clubhouse and fill everyone in on the Intel we have on Stahl."

"Sounds like that's the way to go, bro." Jax nodded. "One more thing, though. I think Jo may have overplayed her hand in letting Stahl know the shit she has on her. I wont' feel safe unless somebody's on my old lady 24/7."

"I thought that was your job." Opie teased.

"Nah, man, that's my privilege," Jax snarked. "But you know what I mean. Just in case Stahl gets any bright ideas about unleashing her crazy on my wife."

"Get Sack on it." Opie suggested, knocking back the rest of his drink. "Her disgusting cravings aside, how's Jolene handling carrying another spawn of Jax Teller?"

"She's handling it just fine. Me? Not so much." Jax replied as he sat next to Opie. "She's in constant go-mode from the minute she gets out of bed and trying to get her to stop for five minutes is turning me into a nagging little bitch."

Slapping his brother on the back of his cut, Opie laughed. "I'm not surprised. This may be your second kid, but it's the first one you've been there for since day one. And I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but Jo's only in her first trimester. The worst is yet to come."

Jax half-grinned. He had missed so much the first time around, he was actually looking forward to sharing the whole experience, good or bad, with his old lady. Unfortunately, now knowing the truth about her pregnancy with Abel, "bad" took on a whole different meaning and Jax was convinced his goatee was turning white from worry.

Still, Jax couldn't help but chuckle when he thought of his wife. "To tell you the truth, man, I can't really tell where Jolene ends and the pregnancy begins. She's always been a little—"

"Bat-shit crazy?" Opie finished for Jax as he saw his brother hesitate. "Yeah, well, trust me. It gets worse. Donna acted all shades of crazy on my ass in her first trimester and it only got worse towards the end. It got so bad, she had me jumping at the sound of my own fuckin' voice. I'm telling you, by the time Jolene's ready to pop, she'll be wearing your balls as earrings."

"Really?

Opie took a smoke from the pack Jax offered. "Really."

At that, Jax dragged on his cigarette and smiled.

_And I can't fuckin' wait!_

* * *

Neeta Benson took her responsibility in looking after the new Prince of Charming very seriously. She had quickly come to love the little boy and she was very much in tune with his moods. Abel was normally a pretty happy child, rambunctious sometimes, occasionally demanding, but generally speaking, a very loving little boy. In other words, he was very much like his mother and if he didn't get regular attention from those he loved most in the world, he got grumpy, depressed, and irritated. So when she read in the _Charming Gazette _that the public library was doing a series of book readings for children, Neeta thought that this might be a good way to get her baby boy out of his current funk.

After spending mornings with her husband and son, Jolene would usually drop Abel off at his grandparents' house before heading off to spend a few hours in the afternoon covering for Gemma at T-M's office. After packing a small cooler with a couple of sandwiches, apple juice, fruit, and his favorite freshly-baked pecan chocolate chip cookies, Neeta advised Abel of her plans for a special outing.

First, they would have an early lunch at one of the picnic tables at the park downtown, then they would head over to the library across the street for a reading of one of his favorite books, _Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus_. Neeta hoped that the trip might cheer him up because, ever since Clay Morrow's accident, her baby had been in a bad way. His appetite had changed so radically as a result that even her famous chocolate chip pancakes failed to put a smile on his face.

The grade school where Abel would be going to in the Fall was only a few blocks away from the library and Neeta suggested taking a walk over there after lunch to check it out. Not surprisingly, Abel, who had been looking forward to starting Pre-K for months now, just shook his head, his chin resting on one hand as he poked holes into his half-eaten egg salad sandwich with the index finger of the other. After tossing his mutilated sandwich in the garbage, Neeta packed up Abel's untouched leftovers before they took a leisurely walk through the park as they headed to the library. Although it was early afternoon in mid-July, Neeta was surprised by the large number of children who had shown up with their parents for the book reading. For about ten minutes, with his mother's outgoing and affable personality taking over his tiny body, Abel seemed to enjoy meeting some new faces. Neeta was grateful that the boy had finally allowed himself to take his mind off of one craggy and old face in particular that he had been missing so much.

But Neeta soon learned that the whole reason for getting Abel out of the house had never been really far from the child's mind.

"Miss Neeta, since we're in your car, can we go see Papa? Pleeease? Just for a little while?"

Neeta looked at her young charge perched in his car seat through her rearview. "Baby, I know how much you miss your Papa, but he's going to be home sooner than you know."

Making a little "harrumph" sound, Abel crossed, his arms over his chest. "I wish we had gone to see Papa instead of listening to that lady read my book. She didn't read it right at all. Not like Papa, anyways." He said with a frown on his face.

Neeta actually felt her heart ache for her little boy as it was growing increasingly obvious that he was in a bad way, with no chance of getting better any time soon.

_I need to think of something to cheer my baby up._

As an idea struck, Neeta smiled. Carefully turning the car around, Neeta headed for the I-22. "You know what, Abel? I think you need a little therapy."

"What's that?" Abel quirked an eyebrow, now curious as Neeta piqued his interest.

"That's something to make you feel good when you're sad. Most people call it window shopping. You look in the windows of stores at things that make you feel good, even though you can't get them at the time."

Abel thought about this for a minute. "If you can't get what you want, how does that make you feel good?"

"Well," Neeta hedged. "You might not get it right then and there, but you can still appreciate it and, hopefully, you can get it later. Don't worry, baby boy. I think you're going to like where we go to window shop."

* * *

The Stockton Galleria was a large, three-story mall in the heart of the city. Boasting over 150 stores, the mall had something for every age bracket.

Especially four-year old little boys.

Muttley's Pet Emporium strategically occupied the large space directly across from the Chuck E. Cheese's on the basement level. Abel could hear the barks and yips of the dogs half way down the escalator.

Looking at his companion with bright shining eyes, he practically squealed, "Miss Neeta! I hear dogs."

Neeta beamed. "That's right. I thought we could come by and say hi and visit for a little while. Whacha' think?"

Abel tugged on her hand excitedly, his Papa momentarily forgotten. "Let's go!"

And so for the next thirty minutes, Abel practically skipped all over the store, making time to meet each and every dog in the place and showing no fear. Muttley's had a large selection of full and mixed breed dogs in every size imaginable, ranging from gentle giants like Great Danes to nippy little boogers like Chihuahuas. Abel ran from one display to another, his green eyes large and sparkling at the antics of the animals.

Neeta stood close at his side as he smiled and waved at a dog that looked to be about the size of a pony. "Abel, don't get too close." Neeta said as the large shaggy dog put his head through the partition to sniff Abel's outstretched hand.

"Oh, he's a good doggie. He won't bite me." Abel looked up at Neeta and assured her confidently. "Miss Neeta, maybe he could come home wit us for a visit."

A young sales woman, whose name tag read "Marie", overheard and walked over. "I'm so sorry, honey, but I'm afraid you can't take this dog home. He's has a new owner who is coming to pick him up later today, but if you want, I can show you some other dogs."

"Oh, no!" Neeta interjected quickly. "That's quite all right. We're not doing any retail therapy today. No buying, we're just window shopping to cheer up my boy here." She smiled.

Abel snapped his head around at Neeta's statement. "Grandma does retail therapy all the time and she comes back with a lot of bags. I think we should do retail therapy too and buy me a dog." He pronounced sagely.

Marie tried to hide her laughter, only for it to come out as a series of coughs. "Smart kid." She whispered.

"Too damn smart." Neeta whispered back.

Abel turned around to try and argue his point better, but suddenly fell silent as his eyes widened. The next thing Neeta knew, Abel took off, heading towards a display where another sales person was settling some new arrivals into a display at the front of the store.

Chasing after Abel, Neeta, with Marie hot on her heels, pulled to a screeching halt as she saw Abel's nose pressed up against the glass. Neeta face-palmed herself as she realized her goose was cooked.

Approaching Neeta, Marie giggled as she summed the situation up. "Oh dang, it's on now."

* * *

Having met up his old lady at the lot, Jax followed her up the driveway as she parked her car behind Neeta's gun mental gray Honda Civic.

Grabbing her handbag, Jolene stepped out of the car. "Why is Neeta's car in our driveway?"

"Gemma said Neeta would bring Abel straight to the house after their outing in order to start dinner for us." Jax said as he got off his bike.

Slamming her car door, Jolene stopped dead in her tracks. "Start dinner?"

"Yeah, Neeta called Ma from the market. She knows how much I love her pot roast so she picked one up and offered to make it for us. We have been eating a lot of take out lately—" Jax stopped and suddenly threw his hands up defensively as Jolene flashed him a death glare. "Hey, not that I'm complaining, darlin'."

_Although I might want to._

Jax couldn't really help it. Since Clay's accident, Jax had come to realize just how much he loved his old lady's cooking, especially now that he wasn't getting any. With Jolene constantly on the run, helping out at the garage and spending time with her father, the Teller family had been getting a pretty steady diet of take out food—burgers, pizza, and the occasional meatloaf from Nicky's Diner. Although he wasn't as talented in the kitchen as Jo's Uncle Elvis, Jax could manage to work the fancy grill out on their deck in the backyard. The last time he checked, however, he would need actual meat to put on it and the Tellers' freezer was currently sitting empty.

But Jax knew how rough Jolene had it and wasn't about to take his wife to task about it. Instead he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Babe, I actually thought this would be a nice surprise for you. Now more than ever you need to eat properly and this fast food shit ain't cutting it. It's not good for you or the little man in there." He lectured as he rubbed her tummy through the material of her top.

Jolene smiled and pulled him down for a kiss. "I know, baby. I promise, I'll go the market tomorrow and stock up." As Jolene opened the front door, the smell of simmering beef and vegetable emanated through the house. "Gawd! That smells really good." She exclaimed as her stomach growled in response. "I don't know why Neeta decided to cook for us today, but I'm glad she did."

However, as she saw Abel run a blue streak towards her, with a furry, four-legged companion nipping at his heels, Jolene finally got Neeta's number.

"Mommy, Mommy! Guess what? We got a dog!"

Jax looked from the ecstatic grin on his son's face, to his old lady, whose look of shock and horror begged him for an explanation. "I just got here myself, darlin'."

"Mommy, isn't he pretty? Don't you want to know his name?" Abel piped up excitedly, as the puppy leaped and ran around his legs, barking excitedly.

Stunned, Jolene had dropped her handbag on the floor and was now currently in a tug-o-war for it as the puppy stopped jumping on Abel and grabbed onto strap. Under the impression that Jolene was playing a game, the young pup refused to let go and was having a ball. Finally, squatting down, Jolene managed to tug the strap out of his mouth.

"His name's Chopper, Mommy. Just like Uncle Elvis' bike."

"Neeta!" Jolene called out loudly. "NEETA!"

Chopper, who seemed to clue in that this was his prime opportunity to make an impression, placed his front paws on Jolene's knees, jumped up, and licked her nose. Startled, Jolene leaned back and landed on her ass. Taking this as another good sign, the puppy scrabbled up Jolene's body, licking and barking in excitement. Jolene looked up at Jax for some help as the pup knocked her onto her back and slobbered all over her, but quickly realized he was practically useless as he was nearly doubled over in laughter.

Finally managing to sit up, Jolene grabbed the rambunctious puppy and held him at arm's length to take a good look at him. Chopper, a Red Labrador Retriever, had huge floppy, velvety ears and massive paws. At about 10 pounds, a foot and a half long, and a foot high, he was the cutest damn thing Jolene had ever seen on four legs. The dog made good use of his tongue, too. As Jolene cradled him in her arms, Chopper licked every part of her face as if he knew he was in imminent danger of being kicked to the curb.

Finally lifting the dog off of her chest, Jolene looked up from the floor to see Neeta smiling blithely as she walked into the room holding one of her signature apple pies. "Oh, hi, you two. I didn't realize you were home."

Jax tried in vain to control himself. After all, he was an outlaw biker, but he lost the battle and snorted, his laughter spilling out again.

Jolene, however, was not about to be deterred. Struggling to get up from the floor with the puppy still in her arms, she demanded. "Neeta, what is this?"

"Oh, that? That's Abel's dog, Chopper." She replied nonchalantly. "You know, I finished this pie and just realized that I forgot to buy some ice cream earlier and there isn't a bit of it in the house, so let me put this down and I'll hop right on over to the store—"

"Hold it right there, Neeta Benson!" Jolene finally got up from the floor and practically threw the dog at Jax, with Chopper quickly transferring his affections to Abel's father. "Please explain to me just how Abel went to the library today and, instead of a book, brought back a dog."

Fortunately for Neeta, Abel stepped in. "Mommy, after the liberry we went to the Mall and did retail therapy."

"What?" Jax and Jolene said simultaneously.

Abel nodded his head. "I was depessed 'cause Miss Neeta wouldn't take me to see Papa, so she took me to look at the windows instead. Then we saw Chopper and he had to come home with me, Mommy, because he picked me! So we did like Grandma and did retail therapy and Miss Neeta bought him for me."

Neeta spoke hurriedly. "I have to say, it was the strangest thing, really. I mean, there they were—all of Chopper's brothers and sisters—and they were just ignoring poor Abel, but the second Chopper spotted him, he came right over to my baby here and pressed his little brown nose up against the glass and well, what was I supposed to do?" Neeta put her hands on her more than ample hips. "The dog picked out our boy just as pretty as you please, and since you said you was thinking about getting him a dog—"

"But I wasn't done _thinking_ about it yet, Neeta—" Jolene started.

"So I went ahead and did it for you. If I hadn't, Chopper would have been gone by the time you finished _thinkin'_ about it and went to get him." Neeta said snarkily. "Abel was so happy, he ate all of his lunch, and you know he's been really off his food since he hasn't been able to—" Neeta paused and then mouthed, "See his Papa."

Jolene hesitated. "He ate all his lunch?"

"Every little bite." Neeta said triumphantly.

_I got her now._

Neeta picked up the pie from the table and turned towards the kitchen. Calling over her shoulder she said, "Since y'all don't want the ice cream, I'm gonna check on dinner. I made twice baked cheesy potatoes, roasted broccoli with garlic and butter sauce, a nice garden salad and some of my good yeast rolls to go with the pot roast. And since Gemma thought it was a good idea, I filled up the freezer and the refrigerator with fresh meat and produce. Why don't y'all let Abel show you Chopper's bed in his room and then get cleaned up for dinner?"

Jolene looked at her husband, who was now playing with Abel and Chopper on the floor.

"When did I lose control?" Jolene asked Jax, whose eyes were watering as Chopper tugged on his goatee. Getting no helpful response from her husband, Jolene placed her hands on her stomach as she headed upstairs. "'Lil Peanut, I'm outnumbered here, so I sure as hell hope you're a girl."

"Hey!" Jax called from the bottom of the stairs. "I heard that!"

* * *

With the house finally settled down for the night, Jax was nibbling away at Jolene's ear as they snuggled together in their California king bed. Continuing her losing battle in her efforts to make Jax work for it, Jolene tried to pretend she was actually interested in reading one of his motorcycle magazines.

"There is absolutely nothing in this rag that justifies it calling itself informational." Jolene started, trying to ignore the fact that her old man's hand was now under her tank top and kneading her breast. "It's nothing but pictures of skanky-looking naked women on bikes. It's Harley porn!"

"I wouldn't know, darlin'." Jax stopped sucking on her neck. "I buy it for the articles." He laughed, unable to say it with a straight face as Jolene swatted at him with the rolled up magazine.

Grabbing her hands and holding them above her head, Jax gently rolled onto Jolene, effectively pinning her to the bed. Soon, he had Jolene making happy noises as he kissed her thoroughly. Jax let go of her hands and Jolene tossed the magazine into the wastebasket by her nightstand without looking in order to grab fistfuls of Jax's hair.

"I need that, you know." Jax barely broke their kiss to complain.

"Oh no you don't."

"I do if you want Chopper housebroken." Jax said and Jolene pushed him off her.

"You are not going to hit that sweet little ball of fur with a rolled up magazine in order to get him to go outside." Jolene said indignantly.

Jax smiled at his old lady, his blue eyes twinkling devilishly. "You are so much like Clay Morrow, it's kinda creepy."

Jolene crossed her arms over her chest. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that a couple of hours ago, you were threatening to stuff Chopper into the garbage disposal if he dropped another bomb in the house."

"Did you see the size of his last BM?" Jolene asked her eyes wide.

Jax twirled a lock of his wife's hair around his index finger. "You're not really upset about the dog, are you?"

Pushing Jax onto his back, Jolene snuggled into her husband's chest. "Nah, it was just the shock of it. According to Neeta, it was love at first sight for both Abel and Chopper and the little shit is just too cute for words. Housebreaking is going to be a bitch, though."

"Yeah, and this whole walking the dog business is going to get pretty interesting. Abel had a great time walking Chopper over to G-ma's, but he wasn't too crazy about the fact that I expected him to pick up dog shit." He chuckled.

Jolene snickered. "I hope you made him pick it up anyway. He wants a dog, then he's gonna have to learn how to take care of him."

With Jolene now in a relaxed mood, Jax thought it was as good as time as any to fill her in about his conversation with Opie. Kissing the palm of her hand, Jax looked into her eyes. "I talked to Ope today about Stahl."

Jolene she sat up. "You didn't tell him about—"

"Nah, babe. You and the pole was nothing to bother him about."

"What did he have to say?"

"You know Ope. He's pretty laid back and level-headed, but I think he was ready to kill her. He was pissed, Jo and upset that you had to go through it alone, but he gave me some good advice. I think we're gonna be okay."

"You really mean that?"

Jax gently pulled her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head "I wouldn't lie to you, Jo. The plan is to tell the Club—"

Jolene protested. "Oh God, no, Jax. My Dad—"

"I said tell the Club, babe—not your Dad. We need to operate from a place of strength and knowledge is power. We won't, however, tell your Dad. The strategy going forward is to let sleeping dogs lie until Stahl makes the first move. We'll hold onto your Intel and play it at the right moment."

"Okay, makes sense." Jolene almost whispered, her fingers absently stroking the "Abel" tat on his chest.

"I think so, too."

"My Dad was so right in choosing you as Acting President." Jolene smiled up at her husband.

"Damn right, darlin'." Jax grinned as he rubbed her back, slowly inching her tank up.

"Speaking of the President," Jolene sat up again and faced her old man, disappointing Jax as she pulled her shirt back down. "I think we should talk about Clay."

"_Now_?" Jax quirked an eyebrow at her.

Jolene nodded. "Yeah, it's official. The doctor said he can leave the hospital this Saturday."

"That's great, darlin, right?" He asked when he saw the look on her face.

"It would be if he wasn't being such a pain in the ass. He's been fighting Gemma on redoing his man cave in order to set him up on the ground floor and is refusing to agree to a live-in home attendant to help out." Jolene explained.

"This is Clay we're talking about. That's the nature of the man."

"Well, I'm worried because Dr. Wallace says that if we can't get him settled in comfortably at home, we may have to consider putting him in a rehab facility in Stockton. Sooo," Jolene said tentatively.

"Sooo," Jax continued with an eyebrow raised.

Taking a deep breath, which somehow managed to distract Jax, Jolene decided to just blurt it out. "Now, don't flip out on me until you've heard me out, all right? I've been thinking that it might be best for everyone, especially Dad, if he and Gemma just move in with us."

Before Jax could get a word in, his wife started babbling. "Baby, I know that this is a lot to ask, especially since we only just got married and, believe me, I know what it's like living with Gemma under the same roof. The last thing I want to do is relive my years as a teenager, but it'll be different this time and there would be so many benefits—"

"Jo—"

"Just wait a minute. First, we have that large bedroom right off the kitchen with a sitting room and bathroom that nobody's using—"

"Sweetheart—"

"And it would be easy enough to get somebody from Oswald's outfit to come in and make it handicapped accessible in a couple of days, much quicker than remodeling Dad's man cave. With all the shit he has in there, it'll take a week to clean it out before anything could be set up and there's not even a full bathroom—"

"Darlin'—"

"And Abel has been missing his Papa so much. He would love to have him around 24/7—"

"Babe—"

"And we have three extra bedrooms upstairs. Dad won't allow a stranger to help him, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind Filthy Phil. He would be a really big help to Gemma—"

"Baby—"

"And best of all, I'm sure Neeta wouldn't mind coming to help us out while Dad and Gemma are here. She can look after Abel and take the burden off of Gemma and some pressure off of me. I'll be able to cook more, and Neeta will pitch in in that regard as well because I know you're tired of take out—"

"Jesus, Jo—"

"Baby, it's really a win-win situation for all of us, and it's only until Dad is on his feet again, which I'm sure will be before 'lil peanut is born. With me and Neeta helping out, Gemma won't be so stressed out, which means NONE of us will be stressed out because as long as Mama Bear is happy then all is well in Charming. So what do you think, huh? And please don't say no."

"Jo! If you would give me a second, I'd tell you what I'd think."

Jolene looked at her husband with wide apprehensive eyes.

Kissing her hand, Jax looked at his wife sternly and then flashed her a big shit-eating grin. "Guns-N-Roses."

Jolene wrinkled her brow. "Huh?"

"If I'm going to agree to this, I want you to do a pole dance to Guns-N-Roses and it's got to be EPIC!"

Jolene squealed as her old man tackled her onto their bed.

"And one more thing." Jax said, finally managing to relieve his old lady of her tank top.

"What?" Jolene pulled him towards her as she peppered his face with kisses.

"We're getting Oswald to soundproof our bedroom 'cause _nothing_ is going to interfere with my getting a whole lot of pussy to make up for moving in the cock-blocking champion of NorCal."

Jolene giggled. "See, told ya it was a win-win!"


	13. Welcome Home Clay

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

The front lawn and porch of the Teller home was packed with people—patches, old ladies and children, all waiting for the arrival of the SAMCRO President.

Jolene barely had time to mingle with her company as she ran around handling her duties as hostess. Grateful that Neeta was overseeing the food prep, Jolene still managed to wear herself down as she ran to and from the kitchen, giving Neeta an extra pair of hands to work with and making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink. On her feet since early this morning, Jolene was starting to lag, but every time she heard the sound of motorcycles, she would run outside, reenergized and hoping that it was her father's entourage.

Donna couldn't take seeing Jolene's pale and anxiety-ridden face any longer. As she prepared for her father's homecoming, the last couple of days had obviously put a strain on her dear friend. Finally grabbing Jolene by the arm, she forcibly dragged her to one of the rattan chairs on the porch and gently, but firmly plopped her down.

"You need to chill, all right? All this nervous anxiety is not good for you."

_And it's not good for the baby either_.

Donna was not at all happy that her best friend had chosen to keep quiet about her pregnancy. Keeping everyone in the dark just allowed them to expect miracles from Jolene at a time like this. According to Jax, he had tried several times to get her to stop doing so much and slow down but, like a good old lady would, she quickly cut him off at the knees. Unlike Gemma, Jolene had yet to learn the fine art of delegating and was a firm believer in the old adage "if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself" and wouldn't let anyone help her.

Grabbing a glass of lemonade from one of old ladies who was passing a tray around, Donna shoved it into her friend's hand. "Drink it." She said sternly.

"D—"

"Drink it or I swear I will pinch your nose and shove it down your damn throat in front of everyone. How's that gonna look, huh?" The petite woman had both of her hands perched on her hips and a hard look on her face.

Judging by the glare aimed at her, Jolene had no doubt that she'd do it, too. Instead of testing her long-time friend's patience, she took a few tentative sips and found the icy lemonade was actually refreshing. Donna watched her closely as Jolene slowly sipped the drink and smiled slightly as the color came back into Jolene's pale face.

Donna sat down in the chair next to Jolene. "Now how do you feel?"

"Actually, I feel a lot better." She replied sheepishly. "I guess I was feeling a little—"

"Faint? Lightheaded? Overworked? Tired?"

"Geez, maybe just a little." Jolene replied, a little annoyed.

"No shit! Anyone can see from a mile away that something's dragging your ass down, Jo. You need to start taking better care of yourself—" Donna was about to go into nagging mode, Jolene was just sure of it and decided to nip it in the bud.

"I know, I know, and I will. Things are just so hectic right now—"

Donna put her hand up. "I don't have time for bullshit excuses, Jolene. You realize how hectic things will get around here should you suddenly collapse or, God forbid, something happens to you or that baby?" She chastised, effectively killing Jolene's argument.

Donna was right. Not only did she have to take care of herself for the sake of the baby she carried, but for the sake of her loved ones as well. If something should happen to her or 'lil peanut, she knew her old man well enough to know that he would only blame himself.

Jolene wrapped her arms around Donna. "Thanks, D. I can always count on you to give it to me straight, even if I don't like it."

"I only nag because I love you and, if I'm honest, I'm scared. After everything you went through with Abel, I just can't believe you're doing it again. I'm just hoping for the best, you know?" Donna looked at her best friend with wide, frightened eyes.

Jolene was about to admit to her friend that she too was scared when, in the distance, she could suddenly hear the powerful roar of several bikes, as did all of her guests. Cheers and applause broke out when six bikes, riding in a two-by-two formation appeared on the street, with an ambulance and several bikes following them.

Jolene jumped to her feet. "Finally! He's home!"

As the bikes and the ambulance pulled into the Teller's driveway, the crowd continued to cheer. Two paramedics exited the van and made their way through the well-wishers to open the back doors of the ambulance. Sitting in a large motorized wheelchair, Clay Morrow flashed his famous shit-eating grin at the crowd.

Following one of the paramedic's directions, and with his old lady in tow, Clay deftly maneuvered his wheelchair using the control pad with his right hand. He barely had time to clear the ambulance when he found himself being nearly hugged to death by his daughter.

"Daddy!"

Wrapping his good arm around her small shoulders, Clay managed to kiss the top of her head. "Baby girl." Clay looked around at the sea of faces surrounding him. "And where's my grandson?" He practically roared.

"Papa! Papa!" Scrambling through the crowd, Abel Teller came to a halt as he saw his grandfather in a wheelchair, surrounded by his brothers and being hugged fiercely by his mother.

Abel sprinted once again toward him and Clay used his powerful right arm to hoist his grandson onto his lap. Wrapping his arm around the boy, Abel buried his face into the crook of the burly man's neck and cried. Not noticing that his own eyes were tearing, Clay did his best to comfort his grandson, stroking his hair and murmuring to him softly as his family looked on. Finally, Clay managed to get Abel to sit on his right leg.

Abel's lip trembled. "I missed you, Papa. I didn't think you was ever coming home."

Clay stroked his grandson's blond hair. "I missed you too, Little Man, but you didn't have to worry. I was always coming home. I'm a tough old bird."

Abel finally managed a smile as he wiped away the tears on his cheeks. "As tough as Clancy?" He asked, referring to Gemma's white Cockatoo.

"Even tougher. Just between you and me, there were a couple of times I didn't think that bird was going to make it." Clay said as he eyed his old lady.

"Don't start, Clay," Gemma advised acidly. "Unless you _want_ to go back to St. Thomas."

Abel eyed his grandmother. "Papa, you better stop. Grandma gots _the look_."

"What are you talking about, baby?" Gemma eyed her grandson.

Abel avoided looking directly into Gemma's eyes. "Nothing, Grandma. It's just something Papa told me when we have our man talks."

Clay cleared his throat loudly. "I think it's time I say hello to everybody else." He said hurriedly. "Come on, Abel. Let's go inside. I want to meet this Chopper of yours."

_Before Mama Bear tears a strip off of me in front of my Club_.

* * *

The Tellers' large backyard was packed. Set up with half a dozen large picnic tables, the crowd was making noisy, happy sounds as they celebrated the return of the SAMCRO President. Sitting at the head of one of the tables, Clay held court as he joked and laughed with his family, his grandson sitting on his lap.

Grabbing the remaining piece of steak on his plate with his good hand, Clay dropped his hand to the side of his wheelchair. Feeling the soft pink tongue lap at the juicy morsel in his hand, Clay smiled as the little pup yipped with excitement, and winked at his grandson.

"Papa, you really cleaned your plate." Abel said, looking at the remains of Clay's plate.

"Well, I had a little help." Clay noted as he saw the Abel's puppy dash off to enjoy his meaty prize in secret. "I think that was the best steak I ever had. It was way better than the hospital sh—crap that I had to eat."

Hearing his comment, Jolene reached over to squeeze his good hand. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Daddy, since it's the last you'll be having for the foreseeable future." She smiled engagingly as Clay's face fell.

"What the hell are you talking about, baby girl?"

"I mean, that you better enjoy this homecoming spread while you can because there are going to be some changes in your diet in the very near future." Jolene crossed her arms underneath her chest and eyed at her father. "But we won't talk about it now, seeing that we're in mixed company and this is a celebration."

"Uh oh, Papa. Now Mommy's gots the look." Abel declared.

"Damn, Clay. Sounds like Kit is about to put you in lock down." Bobby joked as he took another bite of his steak.

"Well, if it has to be done, it has to be done." Jolene said, giving her father a look that dared him to challenge her.

_She'd be better off taking better care of herself than worrying about me_, Clay thought grimly. He may be old, but he still had a pretty good set of eyeballs and it was obvious to him that his daughter was more than a little run down.

Although Jolene and Gemma spent most of the afternoon fussing over him, Clay was quick to realize that his daughter didn't seem to be her naturally upbeat self. He hadn't failed to note that Jolene's appetite, which was legendary throughout Charming, was almost nonexistent. She had spent the past hour toying with a half-eaten burger and an untouched ear of corn sat on her plate.

Clay had suspected that his recent health issues had taken a toll on both his old lady and daughter. Now that he could see that his suspicions had been correct, he wasn't happy about it. However, he was pretty damn sure that if he tried to tackle Jolene about it, she would quickly turn it around on him.

_I'll sic Gemma on her. She can get away with that needling bullshit and I won't look like the bad guy_.

Clay decided that he would address the bug that had crawled up his daughter's ass concerning his health and nutrition later. It was now time to get down to business.

"The food was great, baby girl, but I think its time for Church. Can you clear everybody out of the house? We need a little privacy."

"Sure, Dad," Jolene rose to her feet and kissed her father on the forehead. "But this ain't over." She warned.

* * *

It was getting close to sundown and the Club had gathered in the Tellers' living room for Church. Clay would have preferred using Jax's man cave, but with it being in the basement, there was no way Clay would be able to manage the stairs.

Wearing his beloved cut once again and sitting in his wheelchair in front of the fireplace, Clay looked at his brothers. The tough outlaw biker was suddenly feeling quite emotional as he looked down at the gavel that was on a small table by his side.

Clay Morrow had been SAMCRO's President for over 17 years, taking over the gavel after the untimely death of John "JT" Teller. He had entered a new phase of his life when he assumed the presidency and won the love of JT's old lady Gemma. Coming so close to dying on the road had been eerily chilling. The similarities between his situation and JT's had been a little overwhelming. Now, as a result of another accident, his life was about to be altered significantly once again.

His tenure as President had not been easy. There had been a lot of death and mayhem, a lot of losses and blood shed, but there had also been a lot of good times.

Although he had never pictured himself giving up the gavel like this, having finally come to grips with his doctor's prognosis for his recovery, Clay had given a lot of thought to his doctor's opinion regarding having surgery to alleviate his rheumatoid arthritis. Making the decision to go through with the surgery, after he was fully recovered from his injuries, would mean an even longer recovery period, but if the surgery worked, it meant that he could return to the head of the table.

It was definitely something worth considering.

The thought of retiring had never really occurred to Clay. He always pictured himself going out in a blaze of glory, so he wasn't about to give up on the idea of returning to the head of the table. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Clay was sure that Jax and Opie would do a fine job keeping his seat warm. Even though Clay would be unable to vote as he recovered, he knew that Jax was smart enough to turn to him for advice when he needed it. Clay would be stepping down, albeit temporarily, but he knew that he was leaving the Club—and their legacy—in good hands.

Clay picked up the gavel and slammed it down, calling the meeting to order.

"Well, my brothers. It's been a good, long ride and it fuckin' kills me that I cannot presently serve my brothers in a capacity that is both needed and required. Because of that, I know that passing a vote to appoint Jax as Acting President and Opie as his VP is the right thing to do. I know that they will work hard to preserve our way of life and to maintain our livelihood. I can go to bed at night knowing that the Club is in good hands until such time that I can lead you again."

"Hear, hear!" Piney called out, with his brothers echoing his sentiment.

"Without any further boo-hooing, and as my last official act as your President—for the time being—I ask that all those in favor of making Jax Teller the Acting President of the mother charter and Opie Winston the Acting Vice President, put their right hand in the air." Looking at his son-in-law, Clay raised his hand and everyone followed suit.

"Any opposed?" Seeing no hands raised, Clay turned to face Jax. "Congratulations. I know you'll make us all proud, son."

Jax wrapped his arms around the older man and whispered into his ear, the whooping and yelling of his brothers in the background. "I will make you proud. I promise."

Clay pulled back from the embrace, reached over and picked up the gavel. Handing it to Jax, Clay smiled. "The floor is all yours, Pres." Moving his wheelchair out of the way, Clay left an almost-stunned Jax standing in the center of the room as he went to congratulate the new VP. "I think you should bring us all up to speed on Club business. I don't know about you, but I got my eye on a piece of Neeta's apple pie."

"Speech first, brother!" Piney yelled as similar cries echoed in the room.

Waiting for his brothers to quiet down, Jax looked at the gavel that he held in his hands with reverence.

"I want to thank Clay for his support and the confidence that he has in Ope and in me to fill in for him. I can't front, brothers. I've wanted to wield this fuckin' gavel since I was a kid, but now that I have it, I've come to understand the responsibilities that come with it. I can only hope that I can do half as good of a job as my father and my brother." Jax said, indicating Clay. "But I promise to do my best to lead the Club, to protect our ability to earn, and to be loyal to our brotherhood."

Taking his seat before his brothers, with Opie to his left, Jax waited for everyone to settle down.

"Now, let's get down to business. First off, we've put feelers out to the other charters in order to gauge their reaction to word of Clay's accident. While they have expressed love and concern for their brother, they're also concerned about their livelihood and how the Club is going to function with Clay sidelined." Jax explained. "Unfortunately, it has not gone unnoticed that the ATF has set up shop in Charming. Now that we have this temporary solution regarding leadership in place, we need to get the word out that all is fine and running according to schedule with the mother charter. More importantly, that we have the situation with the ATF under control."

"And we need to do it soon." Opie added. "All it takes is a couple of clucking hens to get the charters riled up. If they start worrying that their ability to earn and way of life may be threatened, we could end up dealing with a lot of internal problems."

Jax nodded. "That shit is definitely top priority. Bobby, work with Juice and draft an announcement that we can send out by e-mail by the end of the day today. With visiting patches here from Tacoma and Rogue River, I want all the charters getting the news of the change in leadership simultaneously. Even though it's a temporary situation, we need the change to be seen as official and in the proper light. Squash any bullshit from popping off before it even starts."

Juice nodded at Bobby. "We'll get right on it."

"Is there any new business?" Jax asked.

"Unser called yesterday with some good news. He has four protection runs for some shipments that just fell into his lap." Happy replied in his gravelly voice. "High end electronics, designer bags and shit, going to Fresno, Bakersfield, San Diego, and San Francisco. "Should net the Club $10-15K a pop, starting in a couple of days."

With his arms crossed over his chest, Jax rubbed the hair on his chin with his free hand. "Not a bad haul. Juice, who's on rotation for the next set of runs?"

Juice did a quick check on his laptop. "You, Tig, and Chibs."

Jax shook his head. "With the next shipment from Dungloe expected next week, I think it's best if Tig and Chibs stay local." He replied.

"Don't forget, we also have the rest of the assembly at Bluebird to consider. Maybe we should have Huff and his new patches fill in on the protection runs?" Opie suggested.

"Okay. I'd rather stay local myself and I'm sure Huff and his crew won't mind the cut they're entitled to for running protection. It's easy money and, depending on the schedule, they should be back in time for their first run to Tucson with their next shipment." Jax said.

"Yea, the guns will definitely be ready by the time they get back, brutha." Chibs advised.

Jax looked at Tig. "It's your call, SAA. You think Huff's ready to lead that transport back home on his own?"

Tig shrugged his shoulders, a slight smirk on his face. "The way that d-bag talks shit, he's been ready."

"I know that my opinion of my SAMTAZ brother is biased, but I find Huff's judgment questionable at best and can't bring myself to trust him 110%." Jax started. "With that ATF gash still in Charming, I really don't give a shit what he thinks he can handle. I _trust_ you and I wanna know what you think, bro."

After giving it some serious thought, Tig nodded. "Yeah, I think he can handle it."

"Hey, before we switch gears again, why the fuck is that ATF bitch still in town?" Clay growled, still pissed that the Fed had picked up his baby girl on a bogus bench warrant.

"Stahl came up empty after gunning for Jo, but I'm sure she has more up her sleeve. I don't see her giving up any time soon." Jax advised.

"She went after a fuckin' high school math teacher, for chrissakes. Would it surprise anyone if she went after other old ladies, especially the ones with criminal records she can try spooking into ratting on the Club?" Opie added.

"If that's the case, man, then we need to keep a close eye on our women." Tig suggested.

"Absolutely," Jax agreed. "But play it low key and keep a cool head. Don't give the bitch an opportunity to pull a patch in." Nodding at Clay, Jax said, "If you're up to it, maybe you can reach out to Unser. I'm sure Stahl has probably restricted what Intel he can have access to, but the Chief and his deputies can keep an eye and ear out. Any heads up we can get before shit comes raining down on us is always a good thing."

"I can do that. I still have one good hand." Clay joked.

"Now, there is one more piece of Club business to consider." Jax looked at Chibs. "I hear you think Private One-Nut is ready to patch in."

Laughs and catcalls erupted, with Chibs being the loudest. "Yea, brutha. He's really stepped up."

"Let's call it, then. All in favor?" As the entire Club raised their right hands, Jax slammed his gavel down for the first time.

"With things the way they are, I think we should postpone Half Sack's patch in and party—"

"Oh man—" Tig started moaning.

"_But_ I get the feeling you guys would shit a brick. Besides, we need some good times to get us through the bad ones, so next Friday, we patch him in." Jax announced.

"Now that's officer thinking!" Chibs hooted.

* * *

Sitting on a lawn chair next to Gemma, Jolene kept glancing through the windows of the French doors leading into the kitchen from the deck, keeping an eye out for signs that Church was over.

Gemma took a sip of her California Ice Tea. "Anxious to get your beating over with?" She snarked.

"Hey, my Dad has never raised a hand to me in my life. I can't see him starting now."

"Well, there's always a first time for everything, baby girl."

"You know, I thought you would be a little more supportive." Jolene rolled her eyes.

"I am, sweetheart, I am. I just think you may be biting off a little more than you can chew with your dad. I have way more experience than you when it comes to dealing with a sick outlaw biker. And one that's been busted up is a hell of a lot worse, especially one who is—_was_—President of an MC." Gemma said with a touch of worry in her voice.

The worry translated to her daughter-in-law. "It's going to be pretty hard for Dad to give up the gavel, isn't it?"

"I've known your father for over thirty years. He's not one to share his toys with others, especially the gavel." Gemma reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Jolene's ear. "But your father loves the Club more than anything. He'll do the right thing for his brothers and, right now, your old man is the best thing that could ever happen to SAMCRO."

_I am so proud of my baby boy_.

As much as she loved her husband, Gemma recognized that Jackson was the center of her universe. All she ever wanted was for her son to be happy and successful in his life and with the Club. Now, he was being given the chance to do just that.

Gemma knew that her old man hoped that, once he recovered, he would be able to retake his place at the head of the table, but she wasn't sure that it was the best thing for him. Although still incredibly active at 60, Clay's arthritis had been worsening and slowing him down over the years. The accident, while devastating, could not have come at a better time. Because of it, they had learned of the damage being done to his lungs because of the cigars, but according to Dr. Wallace, a few changes to his lifestyle and diet would guarantee a prolonged lifespan. As much as Gemma wanted him to be happy by leading the Club as President, she would rather have him growing old by her side.

Clay had finally confided in his old lady and told her exactly what happened the day of the accident. The joints in his hands had been extremely painful throughout that weekend and, in spite of the several cortisone shots Jolene had administered, after four-plus hours on the road, his mitts had simply given out on him. The idea that it could happen again was somewhat terrifying to the Queen of Charming, so she was intent on pushing Clay to have the surgery that would alleviate his suffering and allow him to ride again.

According to Dr. Wallace, the surgery would not give him the hands of a 25-year old, but the improvement would definitely allow him to ride as required per the Club's by-laws in order to sit at the table and vote, much like Piney. At this point in both of their lives, it was the best of both worlds as far as Gemma was concerned. Clay would still be in the thick of things regarding the Club, without having to do extensive runs and she wouldn't have to face the possibility again of losing him to the road.

Which was why Gemma was bound and determined to make sure that Clay's recovery moved along at a good pace and had promised herself to do her best not to be a complete pain in the ass in the home of her son and daughter-in-law.

Having concluded their meeting, both Gemma and Jolene turned as the doors to the deck opened to reveal the Sons.

Gemma nudged Jolene. "Well, this is it. You might as well get it over with. I'll be here supporting you."

Jolene got up and walked towards the house. Spotting her son as he played with some of the other kids, Jolene called him over. Having Abel as a buffer might prove useful.

Walking into the house carrying her son, with Gemma and Donna trailing behind, Jolene bent over to kiss her Dad on the cheek. "So is everything okay?"

Clay reached out to take his grandson from her. "Of course everything is okay, baby girl, but I think you and your BFF should go over there and congratulate the new Acting President and Vice President properly. They deserve it."

Looking into her father's eyes and seeing the shit-eating grin on his face, Jolene relaxed a little. With a little squeal of excitement, she ran over to her old man, wrapped her arms around him and quickly obeyed her father's edict, nearly sucking the tongue out of Jax's head.

Gemma stroked her husband's cheek. "You all right, baby?" She said huskily. Noting the moist sheen in her eyes, he motioned for her to bend down and in front of a wide-eyed Abel, thoroughly kissed his old lady. "I'm good. I'll be even better when I get you home. I think we need to do some experimenting."

Seeing the wicked light in her old man's steely blue eyes, Gemma smiled. "I am going to have to come up with some pretty inspired ways to get you off with that get up on." She indicated his arm cast and the long, cumbersome cast that reached from Clay's hipbone and encased his foot.

"We'll think of something because six months without your kitty is _way_ too long for me."

Abel wrinkled his nose. "Kitty? Grandma, when did you get a cat?"

"That's a long story, baby." She plucked her grandson from Clay's lap. "I'll tell you about it one day." She turned her head to Jolene and Jax, who had finally come up for air. "Besides, I think your momma has some good news she wants to tell your Papa."

Hearing Gemma's comment, Jolene looked at Jax, who was grinning at her. "It's your show, darlin'. I suggest you get the ball rolling while he's still in a good mood."

Pulling herself out of her husband's arms, Jolene approached her father who was looking at her quizzically. "What's going on, baby girl?"

Jolene hedged. "Actually, I think it's probably better if I just show you. Follow me, Dad."

Turning around, Jolene headed towards the far end of the kitchen to the closed double doors. With Clay maneuvering his chair to follow her, the rest of the party followed behind him.

Stopping, Jolene threw the doors open and said, "Dad, welcome to your new home away from home."

_What the fuck_?

Clay slowly angled the chair into what was a large room.

The former household staff suite had consisted of a large bedroom, a small living area and a large bathroom. However, the room Clay entered now had been completely transformed.

Pressing her best friend into service, Jolene got Donna to approach Oswald about doing the renovation in record time. Oswald, a long time friend of the Club, had a crew come in and, in three days, managed to gut the room, turning it into one large studio apartment. The crew installed a pulley system on the ceiling that would help Clay in using his new handicapped bathroom independently, as well as getting in and out his hospital bed.

"Jolene, what is this?" Clay said bewildered as he looked at large space.

"It's where you and Gemma will be staying for however long it takes to get you back on your feet again. And we're not arguing about this, Dad. You're just going to have to accept that this is the way it is. I am stepping in and taking control of the situation. You've been giving Gemma a hard time and, quite frankly, I am so over it." Jolene placed a hand on a cocked hip as she continued bitching her father into submission. "It's either this, or rehab in Stockton, which ain't gonna happen, so it's this and only this. Besides, a lot of work went into getting the room ready in time for you to come home and I nearly drove my old man crazy enough that he threatened to move into the Clubhouse, so for the sake of Gemma's sanity and my marriage, you are going to suck it up like a big boy and just do what I say. Trust me, and you can ask Jax, it's just easier that way."

"Jolene—" Clay started sternly, not unaccustomed to being dressed down by his daughter, just not so publicly, but was interrupted as his grandson piped in.

"Papa! Your gonna stay wit me and Chopper? Now I can see you and Grandma all the time!" Abel threw his little arms around Clay's neck and squeezed. "I am so happy, Papa!"

"Oh, before I forget," Jolene smiled triumphantly. "We got a wonderful home attendant for you, too.

Clay looked at his daughter in shock. _Oh, hell's no. No stranger is wiping my ass_.

"Jolene—" Clay started sternly, again, but failed to get a word in.

"I talked to Jax and he agreed that Filthy Phil is the right man for the job. Phil can move in upstairs and be around to help you get around and lift you into the pulley harness."

_Hey, that's smart thinkin'_, Clay briefly considered. _The Prospect is fuckin' ginormous_. Finally seeing the bright side, Clay smiled as he realized he could haze the Prospect all day long in order to entertain himself. _I may end up toughening him up a little_.

"I'm warning you, Dad. You fight me on this, you may end up in the shittiest rehab center I can find."

"Now you're threatening your old man?"

"If that's what it takes." Jolene squatted besides him. "Dad, you did an awesome job taking care of me when I was a kid. Please, just let me take care of you now."

The fact was Clay was not looking forward to his recovery and rehab. Being stuck in his house was going to be a pain in the ass and even though his daughter and her family were literally around the corner, the idea of being able to be around them during his recovery all the time meant a lot.

Obviously his baby girl went to some extreme measures to bring him and Gemma into her home. How the two old ladies were going to deal with one another was anybody's guess.

_Jax can't be over the moon about this shit, but I don't care. I need my family_.

Even though he really didn't want to, Clay made a feeble, half-hearted attempt to refuse the offer. "Jax, you sure about this?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, old man." His old lady's health and happiness were the only issue as far as Jax was concerned. Having her ailing father under her roof would go a long way in easing Jolene's mind.

Gemma reached over and kissed her old man. "So we'll all be under one roof. Just one big, happy family."

Jolene looked at her husband with a wry smile on her face.

_No good deed goes unpunished, but hopefully, we'll survive without killing each other_.

* * *

Falling into Drill Sarge mode, Jolene had cleared her house of all guests a couple of hours earlier. Clay, sitting upright in the large hospital bed, smiled to himself as he noted proudly that his little girl was a chip off the old block.

_The party ain't over, but you can't stay here. Thanks for coming. Now, good night_, she had said as she declared an end to his Welcome Home party. Jolene insisted that he was overdoing it on his first day home and needed some rest. As much as he hated to admit his weaknesses, baby girl had been right. He was exhausted.

Clay looked up from the pages and pages of instructions given to him by the hospital upon discharge as his wife exited the bathroom while towel drying her hair.

"That's some shower, huh?"

"Three pulsating shower jets? It's fucking' amazing," Gemma chortled. "I think we're due for an upgrade at home. I'm gonna give Oswald a call in the morning."

"And the Martha Stewart of the MC World is back!" Clay said as he pulled his wife closer to the bed."

"Back? Honey, she never left." She groused as she hung her damp towel on one of the rungs on the side of Clay's bed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I beg to differ, sweetheart. You're a pretty tough old lady, but lately you've been a little down and that's my fault."

"Ssh, baby. What happened, happened. It may have knocked me off my stride for a little while, but I'm okay."

Kissing his wife deeply, Clay pulled back to look into her eyes. "I'm glad to hear that. Now if we could just get baby girl back on track I'd feel a lot better."

His old lady stroked her fingers through his hair. "You and Bobby raised a tough girl, but you can't blame her for being shaken. It's a hard thing for a child, even an adult one, to come to grips with nearly losing a parent."

_It's even harder for a wife_.

"I know, Gem, but it's more than that. She's looking a bit run down, tired, almost sickly. This was supposed to be her summer off to enjoy with her new family. Now on top of taking care of her own family, she's stuck taking on the burden of a busted up father and helping out at the lot. She thinks she's superwoman, taking care of everybody else and not taking good care of herself."

Gemma nodded. "She does seem a bit paler than usual and she's lost a bit of weight." She commented.

"I know, and I know my baby girl. I don't want to come across like some interfering busybody."

"That's never stopped you before." Gemma replied, earning herself a mini-glare from her husband.

Clay continued. "She's only gonna put me off or turn the tables on me and start harping on my diet and shit. That's why I think you should do it."

"Me?" Gemma exclaimed, surprised.

"Yeah, you. That's your job and you do it so well. Gemma, don't you know that this charter wouldn't be what it is today without you? I depend on you for this kind of shit, stepping in and taking care of our family."

Gemma looked him in the eye. "You're not just saying that to butter my ass up."

"No, baby, I swear." Clay replied earnestly.

"Because what you said means a lot to me, baby."

"It means a lot because it's all true."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Gemma shook her head. "If that's the case, I guess I can find the right time to tackle our baby girl."

"Good. In the meantime, maybe you might be willing to tackle something else." Clay nodded towards space between his two big toes. "My friend down, he's been pretty lonely."

Gemma trailed a hand down her husband's torso, stopping to rest on his dick. "Oh, my poor friend. We can't have him feeling lonely, now can we?"

Pulling Gemma closer, Clay slowly shook his head as he growled. "Nuh huh."


	14. Pawn

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

"I'm just saying," Wendy whined, which as of late grated on her old man's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. "I don't like being treated like a cheap trick."

"Really? And just what the fuck would you have me do about it exactly, huh?" Huff said gruffly.

Standing in the doorway of the dorm's small bathroom wearing nothing but a damp towel, Huff eyed his old lady. Sitting on the edge of their bed, Wendy's assets were looking particularly fine with her crossed arms emphasizing her C-cup tits that were straining her hot pink halter top.

_Actually, she'd look a lot better without that fucking' frown on her face_, Huff grimaced to himself, quickly remembering why he was annoyed. The only time she wasn't frowning nowadays was when his cock was in her mouth.

The fact was Wendy had been in a perpetual funk ever since the homecoming party for the SAMCRO Pres—a party to which she had not been invited to attend. In fact, Fat Elvis had taken the opportunity to corner Huff at the Clubhouse to emphasize that, although he was certainly welcome as a brother and an officer of SAMTAZ, his old lady was persona non grata in the Teller home. Clay may not have kicked Wendy out of the Clubhouse when she and Huff first arrived, but you could bet your bottom dollar there would be a shoving match between Jax and his old lady in order to be the one that kicked Wendy the fuck out of their home.

Although Wendy had bent over backwards promising that she would stay out of the Tellers' way, Huff's hands had been tied. He had already paid the price for basically calling Teller's old lady a hooker at the bike rally and he still had the purple bruise on his chin to show for it. He wasn't about to incur the SAMCRO VP's further wrath by insulting his wife in her own home by showing up with Wendy. It was becoming increasingly clear to Huff that he was already being kept at arm's length when it came to the gun business. The SAMTAZ President was counting on him to pull this off for their charter and he wasn't going to jeopardize that for _any_ pussy, not even his old lady. Especially since it was clear to Huff that the only reason Wendy wanted to go at all was to impress her croweater friends by thumbing her nose at the new Mrs. Teller.

In reality, with all the grief the hang-arounds were giving her, Wendy knew she would never live down the fact that she had been the only old lady not invited to the homecoming. And all because her old man lacked the balls to stand up for her.

The SAMTAZ VP sat down next to his old lady and put a burly arm around her shoulders. "Look, you knew coming back to Charming wasn't going to be an easy ride. I told you back in Tucson that it was probably better if you stayed in Arizona, but you insisted on coming, so you're gonna have to accept the terms of the agreement I made with Clay. I've already put my neck out for you trying to stick it to Teller's old lady. You're just gonna have to be satisfied with that."

Huff knew that the only reason Jax hadn't beat him within an inch of his life was because of Clay's accident. He was too busy dealing with his new responsibilities to take the time to treat him to a thorough beating like the one he had given Kyle Hobart for talking shit about his girl in Indian Hills. Secretly, Huff was grateful for that happy by-product of Clay's accident. At his age, Huff probably couldn't take more than one or two punches like the one that had laid his ass out on the blacktop outside the Clubhouse a couple of days after Clay had finally woken up.

"We can't afford to rock the boat here, Wendy. You're just gonna have to deal with this shit as best as you can."

_Deal with it?_ Wendy could barely manage to keep herself from rolling her eyes at Huff. _Maybe if you had a dick as big as Jax's I could deal with it better!_ As it was, if Wendy didn't have her own leverage to hold over Clay, the Sons would have run her ass out of town again.

Although Wendy had her own agenda for coming back to Charming, she was still human and it hurt her pride that she was being treated worse than a croweater by the other patches and their old ladies. Being the old lady of the SAMTAZ VP, Wendy had expected more of a courtesy than just mere tolerance of her presence. And she only had the fuckin' SAMCRO Princess to thank for that shit. God forbid anyone should be even remotely civil towards her because not only would they offend the bitch, but they also ran the risk of having their ass handed to them by the over-protective SAMCRO VP.

As Wendy listened to her old man, however, she realized that he, too, was also pissed about his own situation with the mother charter.

"Right now, I've got more of a grievance with SAMCRO than you. I've been here over a month and I feel like I'm being treated like a goddamned prospect."

Putting aside her own gripes about the Club, Wendy realized that Huff had just presented her with another opportunity to mine him for information. Stahl was running short on patience and Wendy wasn't sure how much longer she could stay on the agent's shit list before Stahl gave up on her and threw her to the dogs.

Wendy wrapped her arms around the older man and snuggled up close. "I know, baby, I know." She cooed. "You're absolutely right. I can't believe how SAMCRO is treating you. They should not be able to get away with treating a fellow patch _and_ officer that way, even if they are the mother charter."

Feeling good that his old lady was in his corner, Huff continued his complaints. "SAMCRO has been earning the big money for itself running guns for over 25 years now. All SAMTAZ is asking for is a fair share of the pie. With the good profit they're making off the other charters, it's a miracle they agreed to let us handle our own transport. All we want now is to learn the assembly aspect of the business. Assembling our own merch would knock at least 35% off the price we pay to SAMCRO per gun." Huff got up to pace around the room. "If Clay and his kiss-ass VP think they're the only ones who can run guns it's because they're afraid SAMTAZ may outdo them and take over some of their business."

Wendy got up to wrap her arms around his neck. "Of course they are. You know what I think?"

"What, baby?" Huff trailed his hands down to Wendy's curvy ass, giving one of her butt cheeks outfitted in skin tight white leather a good squeeze.

"I think the reason Clay has kept you out of the loop is because of my ex. There's no doubt that of the two, you are the more experienced patch and officer. Jax probably dropped the bug in Clay's ear against you only to protect his own standing in the Club. With his new position as Acting President at risk, he's got a lot to lose if someone smarter and wiser were to show him up." Wendy cajoled.

Using the pads of her fingers tipped with razor-sharp nail extensions, Wendy massaged Huff's neck hoping to lull him into a talkative mood. Anxious to unleash her poisonous venom, Wendy continued with a chuckle. "You know, it's been on the rumor mill for years that the only reason Jax ever hooked up with Clay's daughter was because he wanted the President's patch for himself. I believe it too, after all, I was married to the man for over a year. Trust me, there's an ugly side to that pretty boy. I, for one, think that the timing of Clay's accident was quite convenient for Jax, don't you? With SAMTAZ poised to take over their own gun running trade with Clay's blessing, Jax needed to get the crippled old bastard out of the way to keep that from happening. Now as Acting President, he can keep SAMCRO on top of the food chain by keeping a smart and capable man like you busy doing protection runs instead of learning how to make the real money." She purred.

Wendy could see Huff's back straighten, his chest puffing out with arrogance and pride. _If he were a peacock, he'd be preening and strutting around right about now_, Wendy smirked to herself.

Marinating over what Wendy had just said, Huff realized that she was a lot smarter than he gave her credit for and probably right on the money. In a desperate grab for power, Teller probably had caused the accident that had nearly killed his own President. If Huff could prove that, he'd have the new Acting President by the short hairs, which could prove quite lucrative for SAMTAZ. If true, and if such proof existed, it would take a long time and hard work to find it. He needed to think long and hard on this.

In the meantime, Huff decided to play along. He and his patches would handle every shitty protection run handed to them without griping, making sure his SAMCRO brothers saw him as a team player. Hunger for power could sometimes make a man sloppy and Teller was bound to slip up, making an error in judgment that would damage the Club. If and when that happened, Huff would use it as leverage. He'd make sure that word of a weakness in the leadership of SAMCRO wouldn't spread in turn for cutting SAMTAZ a bigger piece of the gun trade.

Huff decided that it wasn't time to bounce ideas off of his old lady just yet. He would use his time on the upcoming protection runs he'd been tapped to handle for the Club to strategize his next move.

Dropping his towel, Huff turned around and started to back Wendy towards the bed. "You know baby, I think you're on to something, but it's gonna have to wait." Untying the strings of her halter to reveal her ripe plump breasts, Huff groaned. "I'm going to be gone ten long days. You need to give me a little something to keep me going 'til I get back." Lifting Wendy up, Huff fell with her onto their bed.

_Shit! I got nothing! Turning him on before getting the info I need is a mistake I have to stop making, damn it_, Wendy thought as Huff started going to town on her tits.

Stahl has been harassing her for updates, but she hadn't been able to get any new Intel as the Club kept sidelining her old man with matters unrelated to gun running. Wendy tried to keep Huff talking, but with his dick currently hardening against her thigh, she knew the time for talking was over.

Feeling her own stirrings of desire finally taking hold, Wendy decided she might as well enjoy the ride. Stahl was just going to have to get her granny panties untwisted until she could make some real headway with Huff, which with him on the road sure as hell wouldn't happen for at least the next ten days.

Finally squirming her way out of her leather pants, Wendy rolled on top of her old man and smiled. There was only one tried and true method of getting herself off while fucking the old man and that was thinking of her Dahlmer as she rode Huff's cock hard and fast.

She was due for a break from her old man and Dahlmer was just what the doctor ordered. Ten days of mind-blowing sex and indulging in her drug of choice with no fear of repercussions.

_Yeah, baby! Let the good times roll_!

* * *

Deputy Chief Hale watched as Agent Estevez left his office after declining his offer to join him and Agent Wright for lunch at Nicky's Diner. After their brief conversation regarding the status of the ATF's investigation, Hale had lost his appetite. With his jaw clenched as tight as his stomach, Hale suddenly threw the pen he had been using to sign off on some reports across the room and dropped his head into his hands, his elbows on his desk.

He could hear her now-familiar boisterous voice booming as she spoke to one of her agents over the telephone. She had sent Agent Smith back to the Stockton office early this morning to retrieve some necessary paperwork and was wondering what the hell was taking him so long. As he heard her sign off on the call, Hale pushed himself away from the desk and headed down the hall. His mouth set in a grim line, Hale stood in the open doorway of Stahl's tiny office. He didn't knock or ask if he could enter. He just did, and slammed the door soundly behind him.

Without flinching, Stahl continued perusing the files on her desk as she drained her coffee cup dry. Placing it on her desk, she finally looked up and made eye contact with Hale.

"Good afternoon, David. I'm going to jump to a conclusion here and assume that you would like to speak with me." Stahl smiled, one eyebrow arched.

Hale had no time for pleasantries, so he just cut to the chase. "I just had a brief conversation with Estevez and was hoping you could fill in the blanks." He replied through the thin set line of his lips.

Agent Stahl narrowed her eyes at David Hale as she noticed the grimace on his face, his tight shoulders, and his hand resting on his holster precariously close to his service revolver.

"If I can, I will. What's on your mind? You seem a little tense." She said casually.

"What's on my mind is your 'Plan B' for taking down SAMCRO." Hale started. Stepping towards Stahl, Hale placed his hands on her desk, his finger spread out, and leaned forward. "If what I was told is correct—and I hope it's not—I cannot believe what you are doing to Jolene Teller."

Stahl leaned back in her chair. The smile that she had greeted Hale with was fading into a cold, hard stare. Picking up a gold Mount Blanc pen she had received from her foster parents when she graduated high school, she idly twirled the pen between her fingers.

"Are you getting soft on me, David?"

"Soft? As in, soft on SAMCRO? No, never." Hale shook his head emphatically. "I'm living for the day when that white trash crew of bikers is hauled off in federal custody, along with their suppliers in the IRA. But it's one thing going after them and it's another thing entirely to go after their women. As deputy chief, my job is to protect and serve the citizens of Charming and I cannot support your decision to use an innocent as bait, no matter—"

Stahl abruptly slammed her fist down on her desk, sending the empty coffee cup flying so that it smashed into pieces on the floor.

"OH PA-LEES! Spare me the sentimental bullshit, David! Jolene Teller is no innocent! Her father is the President of a vast criminal organization. Her old man is his second-in-command and the man who practically raised her is their Treasurer, so don't you dare stand before me and defend Jolene Morrow-Teller as an upstanding citizen! She may not be a patched member, but according to my files she has been a member of the most exclusive club of all since she was 18 years old. She's an old lady and probably has as much blood on her hands as her old man because she's the one that cleans them off for him! She's guilty by association. I may never get her convicted of shit, but she will pay for her participation in all of this. Plan B guarantees that!"

The Deputy Chief looked at the suddenly angry Agent, noting her flared nostrils and barely pent up rage. "That's a little harsh and a bit extreme, don't you think?" Hale argued.

"It's harsh because it the fucking truth! And do I think it's extreme? No, I don't and I suggest you take off the kid gloves when dealing with her. Do you even remember why Agent Reinhart pulled Jolene in for questioning all those years ago?" Stahl barked.

David crossed his arms. "Yes, I do. He wanted Intel regarding the shooting in which she was the _victim_."

"Well, it's obvious to me—and his reports bears this out—that he felt there was a strong connection between that incident and the disappearance of Kyle Hobart."

"He may have mentioned as much." David said noncommittally.

He briefly thought about the Son who had fallen off the map several years ago and his own suspicions that the bastard had been the one responsible for the attack on Jax and Jolene. If his suspicions had been correct, there was no doubt in Hale's mind that SAMCRO had been responsible for Hobart's disappearance.

_I guess Stahl has come to the same conclusion_.

"Well, it seems that the Club has a history of coming to Jolene's rescue. Kyle Hobart wasn't the first asshole to pay with his life for taking aim at the Princess. I guess you don't know about the fallout that occurred as a result of her rape." Stahl fought to keep herself from smiling as she saw the mixture of cold dread and hot anger seep into wide eyes.

"The hell you say! Jolene Teller, _raped_?" Hale was incredulous.

Stahl shrugged her shoulders. "I misspoke. I meant to say 'attempted rape'. It happened when she was 17 and living with her mother in some shithole in Seattle as part of her probation." Stahl pulled out one of her files and slapped a mug shot of a man on her desk. "The alleged attacker was one Ricardo Hernandez. He was known as Pretty Ricky and was her mother's pimp."

David rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index and fore fingers. After pulling her over for speeding so many years ago, he had made it his business to find out as much as possible about Jolene Morrow. Again, during her self-imposed exile in Seattle, Hale had used government resources to not only locate her, but to learn as much as he could about her life in Washington. He thought he knew it all, but the one thing Hale did know for sure was that he had never seen a police report regarding an attempted rape, but he had a feeling Stahl was going to clue him in as to why.

"You said attempted rape. What exactly happened?"

"What do you think happened? Our little MC hellcat fought back and got away." Stahl explained.

_Thank God_, Hale almost sighed.

"I see that's a great relief for you." Stahl said sarcastically. "Yes, she got away, but not before stabbing him in the thigh. According to her mother, the asshole nearly bled out in her living room as 'lil ol' innocent Jolene ran her ass back to Charming. Just days after her return, Pretty Ricky went missing and has since been declared legally dead." The Agent crossed her arms under her meager chest.

"One thing doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the other—" Hale began.

Stahl leapt to her feet. "Give me a fucking break, David! Are you so twisted up by a pretty face and a tight body that you can't see the connection? It's the same fucking scenario! Someone threatens or hurts the SAMCRO Princess, she fingers the man responsible and the Club takes off to eliminate the threat. Jolene Teller may not have pulled the trigger, but the Club took care of Hernandez, just like they took care of Hobart. That's two deaths that your little school teacher is involved in. Between us, however, I have absolutely no case against her and she'll probably get away with her part, so don't expect me to cry her a river. The darling of Charming refuses to cooperate to bring SAMCRO to justice, so if I have to bend a law or two to bring down those one-percenters in order to get to the Real IRA, then that's what I'm going to do because that's my job. That MC whore has already made the choice to stand by her man and her daddy, so now she's going to have to live with the consequences of that decision."

Stahl headed towards the door to her office and turned to look back at the troubled face of the Deputy Chief. "David, the ball has already been set in motion and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I don't know what I can tell you that will ease your mind other than if her family loves her as much as she believes they do, then you have nothing to worry about."

* * *

Long after Stahl and her crew called it a night, David Hale was still sitting at his desk sipping a lukewarm cup of coffee. The sole source of light in the darkened office was a lamp on his desk, which illuminated some tedious reports he was supposed to have signed off on earlier today, but never got around to completing.

It was quiet in the station house. The third shift had started about an hour ago, and Hale should have already been long gone home to his small house on the other side of town. But he couldn't because Hale wasn't the type to leave work at work. No matter how mundane or trivial, work always followed him home. Tonight, the work that he would take with him was a matter of life or death and he knew trying to get some sleep would be useless until he was exhausted. His mind was racing, not with the reports he was reading with unseeing eyes, but with the plan Stahl had set in motion against Jolene Teller.

For the second time since he had met June Stahl, he had been exposed to an eyeful of her darker side. Hale, who always had a clear picture of who the good guys and the bad guys were, was starting to believe that the agent's objectivity was blurred at the very least and questionable to non-existent in the extreme.

Hale massaged his forehead to alleviate the headache he could feel coming on. _Who am I to question her objectivity? Stahl's absolutely right about mine being painfully lacking when it comes to Jolene_.

Although he had put away his feelings for the young woman and was currently in a new long-distance relationship, Jolene still held a special place in his heart. While theirs had been just a brief encounter, Jolene would always be the one woman he would look back on and wonder "what if". But even though there was no doubt in his mind that she would be far better off away from the Club, there was no denying just how much love Jolene had for her old man and her family.

_Stahl must be crazy to think that Jolene would ever flip on SAMCRO_.

With this new plan that Stahl had up her sleeve, Hale had to wonder just what exactly had Jolene done that put her in Stahl's crosshairs. If he was to believe what Agent Estevez had told him was true, there was only one way Jolene would come out of this. And that was dead because, after their conversation, it was clear that Stahl had every intention that some kind of harm be brought against Jolene.

Maybe it was his small town mentality and the protectiveness he felt for all residents of Charming, but Hale could not believe how lacking in empathy the agent had been in relating the circumstances of Jolene's attack in Seattle. Stahl had been cold-hearted and clinical, not exhibiting the least bit of sympathy for what had to be a terrified young girl in fear of her life and safety.

Although Stahl seemed to think so, Hale wasn't naïve. She was probably right on the money that the Club had taken care of both men. He had thought as much with the Hobart situation, but he hadn't wept any tears when the man had fallen off the grid. To his shame, it was probably the only time in his career in law enforcement that he had sided with SAMCRO. Hale could still remember the night of the shooting on Main Street as if it had happened yesterday. His feelings of utter uselessness when Jolene had stopped breathing and her heart had stopped beating. Hale had literally watched her life slowly seep out of her and onto the asphalt. Yeah, if Kyle Hobart had been responsible, he for one was glad he was probably dead and left to rot in the desert.

As a man who prided himself in upholding his sworn duty to the law, it was a bitter pill to swallow to finally realize that not everything was in black and white. Although he could never bend the law the way Stahl was doing to achieve her goals, he couldn't bend to the will of SAMCRO either, even if it was for the good of the town. But Hale was smart enough to realize that sometimes the only justice that would suffice in certain situations was outlaw justice.

The side of June Stahl that he had seen today troubled him deeply. Deep enough to have him considering doing some detective work of his own because regardless of Stahl's determination to bring down SAMCRO and the RIRA, Charming was _his_ town.

_And I won't allow innocents to be hurt on my watch_.

* * *

"You look tired."

The comment came as Jolene was taking a sip from a tall glass of peppermint iced tea Neeta had made. The cool drink, while refreshing in itself, was also a great cure for Jolene's recent bouts of morning, afternoon, _and_ evening sickness and calmed her ever-queasy stomach. It was a cure that Jolene wished she had known about during her first pregnancy. Neeta was a godsend and had no clue just how much Jolene appreciated having her around.

Jolene, however, wasn't a tea drinker by choice, which no doubt was raising the eyebrow of the woman directly across the patio table from her.

Looking at Gemma, Jolene smiled. "I look a wreck, don't I? I barely got any sleep last night."

Gemma laughed, assuming that her son was keeping his old lady up all night as he rocked her world. "Sweetheart, you really need to tell Jax to lay off and let you get some sleep. You need it."

Jolene grinned, glad that Gemma had drawn the wrong conclusion. "Well, therein lies the problem. See, I don't sleep soundly unless I get put to bed properly, if you know what I mean, and Jax came in really late last night and left early this morning."

The fact was that Jax had spent the evening bringing the Club, minus her father, up to date on the Stahl situation. Jax had indeed kept her up last night, not rocking her world, but filling her in on the Club's reaction. While all who sat at the table were pissed to the extreme, it was her Uncle Elvis who had nearly gone off the deep end when he heard the Intel.

Gemma was about to respond when three screaming children and an excited, loudly yipping puppy ran past them. Grabbing a hold of the lead culprit, she slapped a hand over his mouth. "Hey, keep it down you three. Grandma needs a break. Papa is taking a nap, and I don't want him waking up any time soon."

"Sorry, Grandma, we'll be quiet. C'mon, guys." Abel said as he, Kenny, and Ellie ran towards the swing set and jungle gym the Prospects had set up for them in the backyard.

"I can't believe you are leaving me here with these three," Gemma said as she sipped her coffee. "I think I'd rather go to lunch, too."

"Oh, no you don't," Jolene said. "I need a break and me and Donna need a little time to chit chat."

Putting down her coffee cup, Gemma reached over to her bag, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. "Speaking of a break, I think you need one, and I don't mean a lunch date."

Warily, Jolene eyed her stepmother. "I'm fine, Gem."

"That's not what your father thinks." Gemma said as she blew out a trail of blue smoke. "He thinks that you're running yourself into the ground and don't tell him I said so, but I have to agree with him."

Jolene straightened up in her chair. "Now, Gem—"

"Don't 'Gem' me." She retorted. "You know as well as I do that your father has a sixth sense when it comes to you. He never really gets it right on the money, but he can tell when you're not yourself, and you haven't been. Not for a while, and the more he worries about you, the less concerned he is about his own health and I don't want that setting his recovery back."

_Holy shit balls! How can I possibly throw these two off my scent and quick?_

Jolene was not yet ready to tell her family about the new baby on board. At least not until she had seen Dr. Negron and with her father under the Teller roof for less than a week, everyone was still in the "settling down into a routine" stage. With Dr. Negron unavailable for the next couple of weeks, she wanted to get the all clear before she and Jax shared the good news.

Also, a part of her knew that once it was out, her life would change considerably, and she was hoping to put it off for as long as possible.

"Look, you're probably right. I have been burning the candle on both ends, but I will start to take things a little easier, okay? Neeta's already been a big help in that area, helping out with the cooking, shopping and housework. She's really taken a load off me and now all I need is to get a little more sleep and things will be back to normal, I promise."

"They better. I can't have my one ally getting sick on me. I need you in my corner to deal with the bear that is my old man and your father."

Taking Gemma's lead, Jolene continued the conversation, hoping to steer it away from her. "He wasn't too happy about breakfast again, was he?"

"Hell no, and if that's anything to go by, he's going to like lunch and dinner even less." Gemma snarked.

Because of Clay's high blood pressure and high cholesterol, Dr. Wallace had referred him to a nutritionist. The doctor believed that with a few, but significant changes to his diet and lifestyle, Clay would be able to regulate both without the need for medication. Even though Clay hated popping pills, he hated eating what he called "rabbit food" far worse. But so far, in spite of his griping at every meal time, he managed to choke down what was given to him even if he wasn't happy about it at all.

The discoloration on his lungs was another matter altogether and what had Gemma and Jolene concerned the most. The belief was that Clay's love of Cohiba cigars—to the tune of four a day—was responsible. The doctor ordered Clay to quit, and had even prescribed patches for him to wear.

Gemma got rid of all of his cigars and put her foot down in the Clubhouse. No one, on pain of death, was to sneak any cigars into the Teller household. "The HBIC has spoken," she had declared, giving each patch a hard glare. Gemma, in deference to her husband's suffering, smoked her cigarettes and joints out of his line of sight.

Working as the tag team from Hell, both Gemma and Jolene cracked the whip when it came to following the nutritionist's guidelines. Hence, Clay's healthy breakfast on his new program consisted of cut oats cooked down with apples and walnuts, followed by four egg whites with a couple of slices of turkey bacon and a mixed fruit salad.

Clay had been less than enthusiastic, to say the least.

At the breakfast table, Clay took one look at the beautifully arranged meal that Neeta set before him and cut loose, forgetting that his grandson was at the table. "What is this shit?"

Abel looked at his grandfather with big eyes and shook his head. "Ooh, Papa, you said a bad word." He then held out his little hand. "That's five dollars for the swear jar." He coolly informed his grandfather, grinning.

Clay glared at his daughter. "Five bucks? That's a lot of money for me saying shit about this shit."

"Mommy, how much is 5 + 5 + 5?" Abel said gleefully, as his father, sitting at the other end of the table, tried not to laugh as he dug into his hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon and sausage.

"That's fifteen, honey." Jolene bit her lip and coughed.

Abel smiled. "Papa, maybe you better eat your breakfast before you say any more. You can give me the fifteen dollars later."

* * *

"What is this shit?" Clay growled the words that were quickly becoming his mantra during meal times. His lip was curled in disgust as Neeta set his lunch before him.

"That last time I checked, shit was brown." Neeta retorted, her arms crossed as she gave him the stink eye. "That is tofu 'chicken' and stir-fry vegetables with a nice berry and mango fruit salad."

"I don't understand how anybody expects me to get better eating fake-ass meat and rabbit food." Clay huffed as he poked the food on his plate with a fork.

"Whether or not you understand is not my problem. You just have to eat it while I take care of the laundry." Neeta advised. Looking around and not spotting the Prospect, she eyed Clay. "Where's Phil? It's going to take me a couple of hours to do the laundry. I know Jolene is upstairs with Abel, but I don't want to leave you out here by yourself."

"Oh, Phil will be back in a minute or two." Clay said hurriedly. "You go on. I'll be fine. Go on, now," He said waving his hand to shoo her off. "I'll be fine."

Seeing the older man once again making tentative stabs at the food with his fork, Neeta nodded her head as she headed toward the laundry room.

* * *

It smelled like heaven on earth.

"Finally! What took you so fuckin' long?" Clay growled, the cold food on his plate forgotten as Filthy Phil walked into the kitchen's dining area.

"It was busy at Nicky's, sir. The lunch crowd had packed the diner out, so it took a little while longer than I expected." Phil said as he placed the large Styrofoam container on the placemat in front of Clay, the cold tofu and veggies being ejected from its former resting place. "Sir—"

Clay waved his good hand at him. "I thought I told you to stop calling me 'Sir'. There's no need to be so formal. Just call me Clay."

Phil tried again. "Clay, do you really think this is a good idea? I'm sure Neeta will be upset and I know Mrs. T won't like it at all. I don't even want to think about your old lady." A chill ran down Phil's spine. Thankfully, Mrs. Morrow was working at T-M today.

"Look, Prospect. What them three busy bodies don't know won't hurt _me_, okay? It's bad enough that I've been beat to shit, now my doctor and my family are trying to slowly starve my ass to death. With the exception of my welcome home party, I haven't had a decent meal in over a week. _I_ _earned this._ And if you ever wanna patch in, you'll keep these little runs to Nicky's to yourself." Clay's mouth was literally salivating at the smells emanating from the container. He couldn't wait to sink his teeth into his meal. "Get the air freshener from underneath the kitchen sink. We have to cover up the evidence."

As Filthy Phil walked towards the sink, he shook his head.

_Something tells me that these runs are going to get my ass in a shit load of trouble_.

* * *

"This laundry is gonna take all afternoon to do." Neeta lamented to herself as she sorted the clothes into several different piles.

Working in the Teller household was a lot different than working for Gemma. While the Morrows home was beautiful, the Tellers' home had been recently modernized, making it a really sweet place to work. And as Jolene gave her free range to call the shots, Neeta knew she was getting spoiled rotten.

_It's going to be a shock to the system going back to Gemma's where I have to fuss and wheedle to get what I want. I always do what I want anyway, but it's so nice not having to take on the Queen of Charming every day. _

She had been in the laundry room for about twenty minutes, but Neeta was starting to get worried. As Neeta finished sorting the first batch of clothes, she cocked her head.

_It's pretty quiet out there_.

"Damn it, anything happens to that old man because I left him alone and Jolene will have me in a cast to rival her father's. The way he speeds around in that wheelchair like it's a Harley, he's gonna end up breaking his neck." Neeta said as she set her first load to wash.

However, all sympathetic thoughts left the woman's head as she opened the door leading her down the hallway and into the kitchen.

_WTF! That ain't no stir fry I'm smelling! I smell bacon! Jolene had better be making my baby boy his lunch or there's going to be hell to pay!_

For a big woman, Neeta knew how to be quiet. Walking around the corner to the kitchen entrance, her eyes widened as she saw Clay's one good hand hovering over an open container of food, getting ready to dig in. The young Prospect, standing across from him, rocked back and forth on his feet with a nervous expression on his face.

Clay, who was so intent on scarfing down his meal, didn't realize that he and the Prospect were no longer alone. Neeta nearly gasped as she saw the huge bacon double cheeseburger, smothered with onions, lettuce, tomato, and mayo sitting on a huge pile of French fries. Literally snatching up the entire container, much like a hawk latching onto a terrified rabbit, she nearly caused the old biker to have a heart attack.

"What the fuck?" Clay roared as before his eyes, his meal disappeared. Using the controls on his motorized wheelchair to back away from the table, he turned to see Neeta heading towards the garbage disposal.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Saving your life, old man." She retorted. Just as she was about to scrape the whole mess into the sink, Neeta felt Chopper's front paws on her leg as he barked in excitement.

"You know what, I have a better idea." She smiled as she removed the two huge burger patties with cheese and bacon from its bun and then dropped them into the overjoyed puppy's food bowl, located by the side of the French doors leading to the patio.

"Aww shit, Neeta!" Clay moaned as he saw his grandson's dog tear into _his_ burger. "That was my lunch, damn it!"

"_Was? _Nuh huh. What you _think_ was your lunch is now a nice treat for little Chopper here. In a world where Hell has not yet frozen over, your lunch is sitting right there on the table." Neeta marched back to the sink and picked up the container.

Seeing what she was about to do, the second President of SAMCRO was reduced to pleading with his housekeeper. "Not the fries. Can I just eat the fries? It's a vegetable." He reasoned hopefully.

Neeta looked at him as if he had lost his damn mind. "These are potatoes and they're double-deep fried in oil and loaded with salt, but I tell you what." Neeta smiled as she walked over to Clay with the container of food. Clay smiled in relief that was short-lived. "You can keep the tomato and the lettuce." Using the fork that was lying on the table, Neeta slapped the fixings on his plate.

Looking in shock at the plate of cold stir-fry with the lettuce and tomato now sitting on top, the older man couldn't believe it when Neeta came back again. "On second thought, give me back the lettuce. There's mayo on it." She snatched it back.

Finally dumping the rest of the food and washing her hands, Neeta confronted both men. Clay was about to rip Neeta a new one but decided against it when he saw the grim look on her face. Then she opened her mouth.

"You try this stunt again, and patch or no patch, I'm going to sic that tiny lap dog you call your daughter on you." She stormed.

"You wouldn't." Clay said bleakly.

"Oh wouldn't I?" Turning to Filthy Phil who was trying to slide his way out of the room, Neeta cut loose on him too. "And you! Jolene would be so disappointed in you."

"Oh, c'mon, Miss Neeta. Please don't tell Mrs. T." Filthy Phil pleaded.

"That depends. Just how many other food runs have you gone on for this one?"

Filthy Phil shook his head mournfully. "I'm sorry, Miss Neeta, but I ain't no rat."

Clay nodded to himself. _Good looking out kid._

"Fine, and I hope that works out for you, Phil 'cause I'm of a mind to reinstate your cereal diet. No more smothered pork chops with baked mac and cheese for you to take back to your room." Neeta threatened.

Clay glared at the Prospect. "What? You been holding out on me? You ain't _never_ patching in."

"Don't you blackmail that boy. Jolene is only a few steps away. Now you try this stunt again or you try to hold this over poor Phil, and I'm dropping a one-ton dime on your ass. Now eat your damn tofu before I take your fruit salad away too." Neeta threatened. "And just think, I was gonna give you a fat-free chocolate pudding cup with low-cal whip cream for dessert tonight."

"Oh damn, Neeta. Give a guy a break. I really like that shit."

"Well, if you clean your plate, I'll think about it. And don't even bother trying to get Phil to dump it in the disposal." Neeta said over her shoulder as she headed back to the laundry room. "And don't try feeding it to Chopper either 'cause he won't eat that garbage."

"But you expect me to?" Clay roared indignantly. "I guess that makes me the red-headed step-dog around here, huh?" He called out after Neeta's retreating figure.

_How do they expect my blood pressure to go down if I have to deal with this dragon all day? It's not my diet that's killing me. It's Neeta Benson_!

* * *

"Mommy, this is fun!" Abel said as he moved the mouse around on the pad, his little tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in concentration.

"It is, isn't it, baby?" Jolene kissed the top of her son's head as he sat on her lap.

It was early afternoon and mother and son were sitting at Jolene's desk in her office.

Needing her own personal work space, Jolene had turned the smallest of the spare bedrooms into an office. Located at the far end of the house, it was a quiet space where she could work on lesson plans and grade exams, as well as take care of the financial matters for her family.

Set up with a cozy loveseat and armchair on one side of the room, the other side featured a large L-shaped desk, a credenza with a printer on it and several rows of long shelves on the walls, filled with books, including textbooks, and other paraphernalia.

On the desk were two computers, one dedicated to her work for Excelsior Prep, the other on which she handled all of the Tellers' household finances. It also housed a number of child development programs that were specially designed to make learning fun and, at the moment, both Jolene and Abel were enjoying themselves playing a preschool game which incorporated simple math skills.

Jolene hadn't realized how much she had missed having quality alone time with her baby. Abel was growing up so fast and she wanted to spend as much time as possible with him over the summer. With her father in his current banged up condition, the Teller family's vacation plans had been put on hold. Jolene hoped that before the summer was over they would be able to get away as a family. In the interim, she was making the time to spend with her little boy, getting him prepared for his new experiences in the Fall when he started pre-K.

"Mommy, I like working on the 'puter," Abel declared, looking up at his mother. "But I'm kinda hungry now."

Jolene glanced down at her watch and was amazed at how quickly the morning had flown. "No wonder baby, it's almost 1:30. I'm hungry too. Let's get something to eat."

She picked up her son, who squealed with laughter as she managed to piggy back him down the hall and down the stairs.

_Whew, I won't be able to do this for much longer_.

Putting Abel down as they reached the foyer, Jolene saw the mailman through the beveled glass in her front door pulling out of their driveway.

"Abel, you go and find Miss Neeta while I run out and get the mail."

"Okay." Abel turned and ran his little legs towards the back of the house while his mother headed in the direction of the mailbox.

Wearing nothing but at tank top and a pair of short shorts, Jolene flipped the lid of the box and retrieved the mail. Kicking the door closed behind her, she idly flipped through the envelopes, discarding the junk advertisements and putting aside the circular for Murphy's Stop-N-Shop to go through with Neeta later.

Jolene thought there was nothing of any real importance until she saw the familiar envelope and noted the return address: Cook County Hospital. Jolene sighed as she looked at the small envelope.

"I'll be old and gray before I'm done with these people." She muttered to herself.

Deciding that she might as well get the monthly chore over and done with, Jolene headed back upstairs to her office. Rummaging for a pen on her desk, Jolene dug out her checkbook from her handbag and went online to pull up her bank account.

Cook County Hospital, located in Seattle, was the hospital that Abel had been born in. Shortly after the birth, Jolene had lost her first job as a substitute teacher, losing her medical insurance as well. It was during that time that Jolene started to amass a substantial amount of medical debt in relation to Abel's urgent care. With no healthcare, Jolene quickly found herself in over her head until landing at Westbrook.

But thanks to Stahl, she lost that job as well and was once again unable to clear the massive debt. It was only when she returned to Charming and had started working, first at Cara Cara and then at Excelsior, that Jolene had managed to make a dent in the debt.

Jolene had convinced her husband that it was in their best interest as a family, and for the Club, if she continued making the monthly payments out of her salary. Using Jax's income earned through the Club would clear the debt a lot faster, but it could also raise red flags with the Feds, bringing a world of trouble down on them. Jax had agreed with her reasoning and Jolene continued making reasonable payments from her salary knowing that it would take years for the debt to finally be cleared.

So nothing could have shocked her more than when she opened the envelope.

_WTF_?

Picking up the phone on her desk, Jolene started dialing the number to the hospital's accounts receivable department.

_Somebody made a really big mistake over there_.

* * *

Bobby Elvis was sitting at the picnic table, sipping on a mug of coffee with a plate of chewy fudge brownies sitting in front of him.

"Shit, brother, I smelled those a mile away." Tig's blue eyes sparkled with a kind of crazy glee as he plopped himself down at the table and grabbed a brownie.

"Well, be careful brother. Chocolate may be a natural high, but these brownies will send you into orbit." The heavyset biker replied as he sampled another serving of his creation.

"Damn, you put hash in these?" Tig reached to grab another. "Excellent! Did I ever tell you how much I love your shit, man? You know, I always had a problem with a man that baked, but brother, you changed my mind when I joined this charter. This shit is phenomenal, man."

"It makes me happy to make you happy." Bobby snarked. He was about to snatch the plate out of his brother's reach when he heard tires peeling. "That's a familiar sound."

Sure enough, Jolene's Mustang tore into the lot and pulled to a stop only yards away from the picnic table. Slamming her car door, Jolene sauntered over to Bobby and Tig.

Jolene had been slightly hesitant about showing up at the Clubhouse. It would be the first time that she confronted the Club since Jax had filled them in on the situation with Stahl. Even though she trusted her old man's recounting of how his brothers had taken the news, she was still a little anxious.

Bobby hopped off the table and was walking towards her with a grim look on his face, closely followed by Tig, who was popping something into his mouth. Reaching his goddaughter, Bobby looked at her sternly and then suddenly pulled her into his arms.

"Kit, I should really put you over my damn knee." He said brusquely as he hugged her tight.

"I'd put you over my knee too," Tig said with a salacious grin on his face, "For a different reason, but your old man would kill me."

Jolene pulled away from her uncle. "I guess I'm on your shit list, huh?"

"You should be. Keeping us all in the dark wasn't one of your best ideas, Kit."

"Hey, Doll Face held her shit together. I wouldn't expect any less from Clay Morrow's kid, but you realize that you're not alone any more, right?"

Jolene looked at the two men that she had known and loved forever. "I know."

"What brings you down? I thought today was your day off from the office?" Bobby asked.

"It is, but I need to talk to my old man. Is he around?"

"Yeah, he's with Juice in the Chapel." Tig responded. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure. That's why I need Jax." Jolene turned and headed towards the Clubhouse.

* * *

Sitting at the head of the Redwood table, Jax was listening to Juice as he filled him in on the progress of the protection runs headed by Huff when a knock sounded on the Chapel door.

"What?" Jax yelled, annoyed by the interruption.

"Hey, baby, it's me. Can I talk to you?"

Jax got up to open the door. "Hey, darlin'." He wrapped his arms around his old lady and practically dragged her into the room, his hands on her ass as he pressed a big smooch against her lips. "This is a real nice surprise. I could use the distraction." He winked at Jolene before looking over at Juice. "Are we finished here?"

Juice grinned. "I guess we are _now_." As the Intelligence Officer rose to exit the room, Jolene put a hand out.

"Wait, Juice, I need you to stay." Jolene reached behind her to close the door, while her husband quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Babe, you know I love you, but I do _not_ share my muffin with anyone." He teased, but after taking a good look at his old lady's face he realized that she wasn't in a joking frame of mind. "Jo, what's up?"

"I think we should sit down."

Jax didn't like the sound of that.

After settling down at the table, Jolene dug into her handbag and pulled out an envelope and handed it to Jax. "What is it?" He asked, bewildered.

Jolene sighed. "I just got the monthly statement from the hospital for Abel's medical expenses. Check out the balance owed."

Jax opened the envelope and pulled out the statement and reviewed it. "It's got a zero balance. How the hell is that possible?"

Jolene ran her hand through her hair. "That's the problem. I thought it was an accounting error, so I called the billing department. They told me that a wire transfer came in and paid off the whole amount. At first I thought you had gone behind my back and paid it off—"

"Babe, I wouldn't do that. I agreed with you that paying it off in one lump sum wasn't the smart thing to do."

"Is this something I really need to be here for, bro? Sounds like you got some personal financial shit going on." Juice said.

"Juice, I think we're going to need your help on this." Jolene replied. "Many organizations have been brought down on tax evasion. In order to protect the Club, Jax and I agreed that I would continue making regular monthly payments with what I earn from teaching. It was gonna take years, but paying it off in one lump sum using Jax's earnings with the Club would only serve to raise a red flag if the Feds decided to dig deeper. According to the hospital, the bill was paid in full ten days ago to the tune of $238,000."

Juice's eyes widened. "Shit, that's a lot of cash to pay in one shot."

"Yeah, and I know I didn't do it, so I told the hospital it was a mistake, but the accounts receivable department assured me that it wasn't. I don't know what the fuck is going on, Jax." Jolene said worriedly.

Jax reached out to grab Jolene's hand. He didn't like the places that what he was hearing was taking his mind to. "It's okay, babe. We'll figure it out. Did you get any information regarding the wire transfer, like where it came from?"

"At first, the Clerk wouldn't give me any information, but eventually I wore her down and she finally gave me the name of the bank that made the transfer. It came through the First Bank of Stockton. She also gave me the wire transfer confirmation number." Jolene pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to Juice.

"What are you thinking, bro? You think you can track the point of origin?" Jax asked his Intel officer.

Juice bit his lip as he nodded. "I can try hacking into the Bank's database, but that could take hours, days even. I do have some contacts at Charming Savings and Loan. I'll reach out and see if my guy has a connection up at the bank in Stockton first. If not, as long as time is not an issue, I'll work on getting the Intel myself."

"Time might be an issue, bro." Jax shook his head. "Press your guy for as much help as he can give us and have him put a rush on it. I promise I'll make it worth his while."

"No problem. I'll let you know what I find out ASAP." Juice rose and exited the Chapel.

"It can mean only one thing, Jax." Jolene said as soon as Juice closed the door behind him.

Jax nodded. "I know, darlin'. I've been waiting for her to make the first move. Looks like this is it."


	15. Cry Havoc and Let Slip the Dogs of War

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

The Acting President was the last of the patches to make his way to the Clubhouse for the emergency meeting he had called for.

After Juice had given him an update on the Intel he had been able to gather, Jax needed time to think and process the information and he knew he couldn't do it in the Chapel. The walls felt like they were closing in on him and he felt himself grow increasingly edgy, irritable, and explosive. He needed to go for a ride and let off some steam. Before leaving the Clubhouse, however, Jax had instructed Half Sack to get in touch with his brothers and let them know that he wanted them to meet him at the table in about an hour.

What started out as a short ride to calm himself down had turned into a pilgrimage to the one place he had always felt untouchable as long as Jolene was in his arms.

The streams.

To any stranger stumbling into his path, while he sat on a large rock by the water's edge, Jax would appear as if he didn't have a care in the world as he casually smoked his joint. Truth was, he was feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Jax knew that sharing the information that Juice had been able to cull for him was the easy part. There would be tough decisions to make when his brothers asked him what he planned to do with the information now that they had it. That was when he knew the fine line between Acting President of SAMCRO and old man would begin to blur.

Having kept his brothers unintentionally waiting on him in the Chapel as he gathered his shit together, Jax finally entered the Clubhouse. Dropping his prepay into the cigar box on the bar, he looked at Half Sack with a furrowed brow as the new patch poured him a generous shot of whiskey without Jax asking for one.

Half Sack shrugged. "You look like you could use it." He said simply and moved on to clearing the empties scattered around the Main Room.

Downing the four fingers of Jack in one gulp, Jax slammed the glass onto the bar. "Sack, put that shit down," He ordered the young man holding an armful of beer bottles as Jax moved towards the Chapel. "And grab Opie's old seat at the table."

"Everything alright?" Opie asked as Jax took his seat at the head of the table.

Looking around the table at his brothers, Jax realized that the grim look on their faces reflected his own. Having an emergency meeting really wasn't out of the ordinary. Calling one at the Chapel instead of the Teller home in order for Clay to participate spoke volumes.

Jax shook his head slightly. "Not really, bro."

Waiting for the murmurs and "what the fucks" to quiet down as Half Sack entered the Chapel, closed the door and took his seat at the Redwood, Jax lit a cigarette. Picking up the gavel, he slammed it down and quickly cut to the heart of the matter. "It looks like Stahl's made her first move and, like I knew she would, she's using my old lady as a pawn."

"Shit, bro. What the fuck does that mean?" Happy asked.

Jax nodded towards Juice. "Fill everyone in on why Jo came to the Clubhouse earlier."

Tig guffawed. "Aw shit, you mean Juicy got to watch?"

"Not now, man." Jax said, giving his SAA a stern look and then gestured towards Juice again.

Juice quickly ran down their conversation with Jolene earlier in the afternoon. Then he dropped the dirty bomb. "With the info Jo gave me, my contact at Charming S&L was able to get some Intel on the wire transfer. It seems that the money was funneled through a couple of different accounts and banks before it got to the hospital. It was obvious that whoever initiated the transfer didn't try very hard to hide the point of origin in a paper trail. My contact was able to determine that the original funds came from a consulting firm called the Midas Group out of Sacramento. While the company seems to be a legitimate corporation on paper, it was easy peeling through the layers and figuring out that it's nothing but a dummy corp.—set up by the U.S. fuckin' government and used to transfer funds from a Wit Pro account." Juice said grimly.

The room suddenly erupted, with shouts of "fuckin' bastards" and "pricks" being the nicest expletives tossed around, but the loudest to be heard was Bobby Elvis.

"What is this shit?" He demanded. "You're telling us that money came from the Feds?"

Juice sighed and ran his hand across his Mohawk. "That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"Wit Pro? You know what this means, don't you?" Bobby almost yelled at Juice. "That ATF bitch is trying to set Kit up as a fuckin' rat, that's what!"

"Chill, Bobby, okay? I totally agree with you, man. Whoever set up the account was sloppy as hell. It's obvious that someone wanted to make it easy to track information back to the point of origin." Juice replied. "I'm guessing it was the ATF. They wanted us to find that connection between Jax's old lady and Wit Pro because that gash is betting on Jolene getting taken out by her own damn family."

"Ain't gonna happen." Opie spoke up.

"Damn right it won't because it's bullshit!" Piney practically roared. "There is no fuckin' way that angel—my drinking buddy—would turn on us, her family."

"You're damn straight about that." Jax said coldly. "Stahl is obviously too stupid—"

"And too desperate—" Opie added.

"To see that truth." Jax finished.

"Shit, brutha. Have you told Clay?" Chibs asked.

"No, and that's the last thing I want to do, which is why we're talking about this shit here and not at home with him."

As Jax scanned the faces of his brothers, he realized that there were two who had yet to speak, giving him enough pause to warrant that he address it. "Tig, Hap, you wanna share what's on your mind with us?" He said a little gruffly.

The Sergeant-at-Arms noted his President's cold blue eyes boring into him and shook his head. "Nah, brother. I'm cool."

"I don't think you are." Jax replied, his jaw clenched.

Tig sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look you know I love Doll Face. It's just that—and don't have a friggin' cow on me, a'ight—even you have to admit that this is a really big red flag. As SAA, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't take a step back for a minute and seriously look at all the possibilities. I can't let myself be blinded by emotion when we're all potentially looking at 25-to-life."

Happy nodded in agreement. "Jax, you know I have much respect for you and for Clay, but you also know how I operate, brother. I can't automatically write this Intel off as bullshit. There's just too much at stake here and I have no tolerance for faithless bitches who turn on the Club."

Opie was eyeing his brother cautiously, ready to pull his ass back as Jax clenched and unclenched his fists.

"SAMCRO learned the hard way five years ago that NO ONE is above reproach. Kyle Hobart was a rat and all the proof we needed to patch him out was that ATF guy's business card in his wallet." Tig continued.

"But when confronted with the evidence, brutha, Hobart confessed." Chibs reminded Tig.

Tig nodded and agreed. "Yeah, he did."

"Then we owe Kit the same damn courtesy, the opportunity to hear what we got and to defend herself." Bobby said adamantly.

Happy shook his head. "We don't owe her shit." Jax's jaw clenched even tighter and Opie could almost feel the rage rolling off his friend. "I know it's not what you want to hear right now, but my loyalty belongs to my brother and the Club. Any courtesy extended to your old lady is a by-product of that."

Seeing Jax on the brink of unleashing his shit on Happy, Tig interrupted. "Listen, man. This is your old lady, the mother of your son, and First 9 progeny we're talking about here. We all know it's _extremely_ unlikely that Jolene's a rat, but we need to handle this shit right. We have to turn every stone, beat every bush and fully exonerate her beyond the shadow of a doubt. And _you_ need to leave emotion out of this, Jax. The last thing we need is for the leadership of the mother charter to be called into question. Trust me, that shit will only open the door to a whole new kind of anarchy that could ultimately fracture a Club."

Looking around the table at his brothers, Jax could see that Tig's and Happy's statements had made an impact. What they needed to realize was that they had made an impact on him as well.

As he had watched his old lady stress over the wire transfer earlier this afternoon, Jax knew what she was really thinking. Jolene knew she was being used by the ATF against the Club and, more importantly, she knew that deep down the Club would know that too. But she also knew that, in spite of it all being a set up, her ties to the Club would ultimately mean nothing to Jax's brothers. Her past with the Club would mean nothing as well and her loyalty would be called into question.

_I know it's nothing personal, baby_, she had said to Jax. She understood the nature of the beast and couldn't hold it against any of them.

Jax had known that it was only a matter of time before he was tested in his new role as Acting President. He had just never considered to what extreme the balance of his loyalties to his old lady and his Club would be stretched.

"I've known Jolene almost her entire life. Setting aside the love I know we have for each other, I know she loves SAMCRO and each and everyone one of you at this table like family. She is _not_ a rat. I am so convinced of that fact that I will put my patches _and_ my own neck on the line." Jax declared as he made eye contact with both Happy and Tig. "Prove me wrong and you can patch me out however you see fit—but not before I kill her myself."

The silence in the Chapel was deafening.

"So what's the plan?" Happy's gravelly voice suddenly rang out. "Because I am all kinds of ready to slowly gut this ATF bitch like a fish to get at the truth."

With all eyes now trained on him, Jax took a moment to rein in the husband and father in him and let the Acting President of SAMCRO take over.

"If anybody is going to end up in a cell next to Lenny for killing a Fed, it's going to be me." Jax replied fiercely. "But if my imprisonment could be avoided, I'm open to suggestions because _nobody_ is going down for this shit."

_And that includes my old lady and unborn son_.

"With the leverage Jo's holding over Stahl's head, I have to believe that she was planning for the Club to stumble on the wire transfer through a third-party behind Jo's back. Your old lady just beat 'em to the punch." Opie said.

"Government red tape is a bitch." Half Sack heard the words tumble out of his mouth before he even realized he had been thinking them.

Every patch at the table turned to look directly at him.

_Shit!_ Jax had probably invited him to the table just to listen, not open his mouth and stick his foot in it.

"Anything else you wanna add?" Jax asked.

Half Sack swallowed the nut-sized lump in his throat. "In a way, I was just agreeing with Ope."

"And?"

"Well, I was thinking that if Jolene just found out about the pay-off today, considering how the federal government operates, it's possible that the ATF hasn't caught wind yet. And even if they know she knows, a chain of command still has to be followed all the way to the top brass and God knows there's a fuckin' form to fill out for every step of the way. The government is real big on following protocol and every branch operates using the same playbook. It's definitely possible that since this operation has already been set in motion, it's gonna take tons of red tape to muddle through before it's called to a halt. I've seen it happen dozens of times. Either way, I guarantee Stahl's plan is still in motion and she will use a third-party source to break the news to the Club, implicating your old lady and leaving no trace back to the ATF."

Once again, everyone at the table was stunned into silence.

"How da hell do you know all dat, Private One-Nut?" Chibs finally asked. Impressed, he was seeing his former Prospect in a new light.

"It was actually 'Specialist One-Nut'," Half Sack replied with a half smile. "I was part of the 75th Regiment before I lost one of my balls to an IED in Afghanistan."

"You?" Tig sputtered, the shock clear on his face. "_You_ were Special Ops? An Airborne-fucking-Ranger?"

Half Sack nodded. "Yes, sir."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Jax couldn't help but grin. "Good shit!"

"How come we're only hearing about this now, asshole?" Piney questioned, he too being quite impressed.

"Uh, no one asked." Half Sack replied.

"Congratulations!" Bobby said sarcastically. "I'm sure you'll fill in the gaps on your fall from grace some other time, but right now we need to work to contain this shit ASAP. We can't have word spreading to other charters. If any of our brothers get too antsy, they may take matters into their own hands. Kit needs protection until we make our move against this bitch." He made the effort to look directly at Happy and Tig as he spoke.

"And what move is that?" Juice asked, looking at his former sponsor for guidance.

"I don't know yet." Jax replied, honestly deadlocked on how to play the next move.

"This is a lot of shit to consider right now, bro." Opie opined. "I say we all sleep on it and meet again tomorrow."

Grateful that everyone seemed to be on the same page and in agreement, Jax slammed the gavel down and ended the meeting.

As his brothers quickly exited the Chapel and headed straight for the bar, Bobby grabbed his Pres by the arm and sat him down at a table in a far corner of the Main Room. Pouring two generous glasses of whiskey, Bobby plopped one down in front of Jax.

"Drink up, brother. You need it." As Jax downed the glass in one shot, Bobby looked at the young man. He could see the strong man he had become, but he could also see the faint lines of worry that were etched on his face. "Jax, you are gonna handle this shit. Of that, I have no doubt and you shouldn't either."

Jax rubbed his face with his hands and, looking at the older, shaggy-haired man, sighed. "I know I can be strong for the Club and I can handle my shit when the going gets tough, but this is my _old lady_, Bobby. I just got her back and I'm _not_ gonna lose her again."

"Good. You keep thinking that way. And that stuff Hap and Tig said in there had to be said. They wouldn't be looking out for their own if they didn't, but what you need to realize, Jax is that Jolene _is_ one of their own. The Tacoma Killer talks a big game, and he always follows through, but the fact is _no one_ at that table believes that Kit would sell out the Club any more than we do. Targeting your old lady was the smartest move Stahl could make and, because of that, it was also the stupidest." Bobby explained.

Jax chuckled bitterly. "How can it be both, Bobby? Stahl is gunning for my girl. She wants her dead and what better way to guarantee that—aside from pulling the trigger her-own-goddamned-self—than to brand her a fuckin' rat?"

Bobby nodded. "Stahl's no different than anybody else who thinks we're all just a bunch of inbred Neanderthals. She probably bet the house that we would turn on Kit and rip her to shreds, hoping that by getting rid of her, Kit's Intel on Stahl would die along with her. To the world, we're nothing but a bunch of ex-con outlaw bikers, but within the walls of this Clubhouse, we're family, brother and family looks out for each other. All Stahl accomplished was lighting a fire in my gut. I know she lit one in yours, too. She pissed us off enough that instead of signing Jolene's death warrant, that government whore just signed her own. She didn't just poke one overprotective bear of an old man, she poked a fuckin' cave full of bears and believe me, Stahl's gonna regret the day she ever came after my Kit."

Jax smiled. Getting up from his seat, he wrapped his arms around Bobby and gave him a backslapping hug. "You got that shit right!"

"Yo Jax!" Half Sack called out from the bar. "Your prepay's ringing."

Jax sauntered over to the bar to retrieve his phone from the cigar box. Seeing a familiar number, he picked it up. "Hello, Luke."

"Hello, Jackson." Jax noted right away that Luke's tone of voice was not overly friendly and lacked a bit of warmth. In fact, it was downright chilling. "We need to set a meet."

"We have one scheduled for two days from now when we pick up our next shipment—" Jax started, but was abruptly cut off.

"I know, but we need to meet sooner, like right now." Luke insisted. "Jimmy O is stateside and he needs to talk to you, in person. There's a problem with the shipment."

As Jax's back stiffened, those within arm's distance noted the change in his body language and stopped what they were doing. "All right," Jax drawled. "Where and when?"

"Haney's Pub in Galt. ASAP."

"Fine." Jax ended the call. "I think we have a situation brewing." Calling his brothers to the bar, Jax quickly filled them in on his call with Luke.

"Did he say what kind of a problem?" Tig questioned and Jax shook his head.

"Oh shyte! That doesna' sound good, brutha," Chibs replied.

"No, it doesn't." Jax responded. "Piney, hold down the fort. Everyone else—you too, Half Sack—let's ride. Let's see what this Irish prick wants."

As Jax tucked his prepay into his cut and led the way out of the Clubhouse, he felt his stomach clench.

_I've got a feeling that Stahl is just the tip of the fuckin' iceberg_.

* * *

Galt was a small city bordered between the counties of Sacramento and San Joaquin. Despite the fact that it was only six square miles, less than a third of the size of Charming, it boasted a population of 25,000 residents, 10,000 more than Charming. It had a fair number of bars, and Haney's Pub was one of them.

Pulling in front of the bar, which quite proudly displayed its Irish affiliations with large green clovers on the outside of the building, the Sons of Anarchy made an impressive sight as they lined up their bikes.

"Tig, Chibs, Opie, Bobby—with me. The rest of you, keep your heads up." Jax ordered.

Tig, taking the safety off his Glock, holstered it and took point in front of Jax, his cold eyes carefully scanning the bar through the porthole window on the door before allowing his President to enter.

Walking into the bar, the first thing Jax noticed was the eerie silence. It was very quiet, _too quiet_, considering that there were six men waiting for them. At a glossy leather banquette across the room sat the debonair Irishman who had requested the Sons' presence—Jimmy O'Phelan, and sitting next to him was Luke Moran.

However, unlike the charismatic greeting Clay and Jax had been treated to during their previous meetings with the Irish, O'Phelan had an unpleasant smirk on his face and a hard glint in his eyes. His demeanor was anything but welcoming and Jax cursed his gut instinct for always being right on the money.

_This meeting's already turned to shit even before it's begun_.

"Jackson," Jimmy O remained seated, exhaling smoke from his cigarette as he spoke. "Is that your new VP?" He nodded his head towards Opie.

"That's right." Jax replied. "Opie Winston, Jimmy O'Phelan."

Opie nodded at the silent man and slid into the banquette first, followed by Jax.

Jimmy O cut right to the chase. "I'm afraid that _you_ have a bit of a problem, my friend."

"So Luke said." Jax replied as he lit a cigarette.

"Tell me, Jackson. How's your old lady doing these days?"

Jax looked unwaveringly into Jimmy O's cold blue eyes. "She's fine."

Jimmy O threw his head back and laughed. "That she is, lad. A very fine-looking woman, indeed." He said and slightly nudged his head at his second-in-command.

Luke reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and carelessly tossed several pictures onto the table. Jax felt his shoulders stiffen as he saw that his old lady was the focus of each and every shot. The pictures were taken within the last several weeks and, quite obviously, without her knowledge. Unable to stop himself, Jax picked up one photo of Jolene walking down Main Street with Abel in her arms. The ones on the table were of his wife exiting her car in the parking lot at Excelsior Prep, leaving the house with Neeta, and walking Chopper at night by herself. Jax threw the photo back onto the table.

"I can certainly see and appreciate the attraction. What is she, 5'5" and 115 lbs.? I bet 3 or 4 of those are in tits alone, eh?" Jimmy O leered. "She's a prime piece of ass, no doubt and it's quite a shame, actually. She's just too damn beautiful to be a fuckin' rat!" He growled.

Without taking his eyes off of Jimmy O, Opie was literally marveling at his brother's self-control. Jax took the blow Jimmy had just delivered in stride, without a change in his demeanor. Opie was sure, however, that Jax was envisioning himself leaping across the table, yanking Jimmy O's guts out through his nose and strangling him with it.

"What are you talking about, Jimmy?" Jax was surprised at how calm his voice sounded.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, laddie!" The RIRA soldier roared as he pointed a finger at Jax. Not one to lose his cool so easily, Jimmy O took a moment to collect himself and sipped from the glass of the soda water sitting in front of him. "If you didna know, my apologies as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have received word that your old lady has been funneling information to the fuckin' ATF."

"That's a crock of shit!" Bobby said, jumping out of his seat to stride towards Jimmy. Before he could get halfway across the room, however, one of Jimmy O's men pulled a Glock and aimed it dead center at Bobby's chest.

"I suggest you go no further." The man hissed.

"Bobby!" Jax eyed his brother. "Relax." Nodding at Jax, Bobby Elvis took his time backing up and sat down again.

Jimmy O smiled broadly. "Too bad you don't have your old lady on the same short leash as you do your brothers, Jax. Can you make him roll over, too?" He sneered.

Turning back to Jimmy, Jax leaned back in the booth. "I don't know where you're getting your Intel from, but I sure hope you're not paying for it because it's bullshit."

"That's where you're wrong. It's no bullshit." Jimmy took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke into Jax's face. "See, before taking on the task of fundraising for the Cause here in NorCal, I gathered as much Intel as possible to protect not only the organization, but my own ass as well. McKeavey was an excellent soldier, once upon a time, but spending so much time in sunny California was making him soft and, dare I say, sloppy. I just had to know how much information the federal authorities had on our operation with the Sons before taking over. It took some time and a lot of money straight out of my own pocket, but I was able to buy myself my very own mole, who happens to work out of the ATF's Stockton office. I give him the cheese, and he feeds me Intel."

"It's true, Jax." Luke chimed in. "It's very sad, but your little rat has been feeding the ATF info about our business."

Jax smirked as he shook his head. "My old lady's father is Clay Morrow, a member of the First 9. This shit's in her blood and she's 110% loyal to the Club _and_ to me. She's the mother of my son and I should cut the fuckin' tongue out of your goddamn head for talking shit about her."

Jimmy O smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That's mighty big talk for such a young man. Maybe you're letting the role of Acting President go to your head because you and I both know that's not going to happen."

"Your old lady may be Clay's daughter," Luke continued. "But that didn't stop her from accepting over $200K from the ATF, and it certainly doesn't negate the reports proving that she's been steadily feeding sensitive information to the ATF for months."

"Sorry, boyo." Jimmy O grinned at the quietly seething man sitting across from him. "But I'm afraid that little slut of yours has been whoring herself out behind your back to that ATF gash, who's probably rocking a bigger dick than yours, eh?"

One minute, Jax was sitting relaxed and clam. The next, he was lunging across the table going for Jimmy O's throat. The sudden melee that broke out was fast and furious as the Sons struggled to pull their Acting President off of Jimmy O. Opie, finally managing to get Jax into a strangle hold, pulled him away and plopped him back down into his seat.

Jimmy O smoothed down the collar of his custom-made blazer and rubbed the side of his jaw where Jax's fist had managed to connect. "I suggest you keep your President in check, VP, before I kill him myself here and now."

"Unless you produce these so-called reports, I'm more inclined to let him loose on your sorry ass." Opie quickly retorted.

"I'm afraid I can't. The fact is I've already sent all documentation in my possession by courier to the Kings. Let's cut the bullshit, shall we, Jackson? The reason I called this meeting is to let you know that our 25-year business relationship is on a very slippery slope. Whether or not we continue doing business is now up to the Council to decide, but I must say, it's not looking good." Jimmy O advised. "Our organization has never been this close to being infiltrated by the Feds. Even though my mole couldn't get access to everything your woman spilled, what he did provide was enough to convince me that doing further business with the Sons is not a risk we should take. Therefore, I postponed delivery of your next shipment until I hear from the Kings. Your old lady is a liability and, as show of good-faith, I suggest that's a wrong you need to make right and fast, or I may just recommend to the Council that we permanently cut ties with the Sons."

"Based on what?" Jax glowered at Jimmy. "On a handful of reports that may or may not exist—I don't really know because I haven't seen them—and some money you claim was paid to my wife?" He scoffed. "What's up your sleeve, Jimmy? First you try to jack up the price on us. We wouldn't bend all the way, so now you're using phantom evidence provided by alleged moles to condemn an innocent in order to sever ties with the Sons. Something's rubbing me the wrong way and it's not just you jumping to conclusions and labeling my wife a rat."

Jimmy O stood up, and his second-in-command followed suit. "I'm sorry to hear you say that. Trying to turn the tables on me just proves that you are sadly lacking as the leader of SAMCRO. I shouldn't be surprised, really. After all, what can be expected from a man who cannot keep his own house in order?"

Jax stood up as well, breathing hard. "I'm not going to let this go, Jimmy. This shit is far from over."

"I don't give a bloody shyte what you do!" Jimmy hollered, his accent thickening in his rage. "Quite frankly, Jax, once the Kings get their hands on the Intel I've sent, there's only one possible outcome, so I suggest the Sons start looking for a new way to earn."

"Jimmy's right, Jax." Luke said. "There's no way for SAMCRO to justify the fact that it's been bleeding info to the ATF for over eighteen months. Your old lady is responsible for ending our business with the Sons. You need to remember that." Luke pointed a fat finger at Jax.

"And you need to remember that the next time you see me, it'll be your last."

Jimmy O laughed as he headed towards the exit door with his men falling in step behind him. Turning back, he launched one final parting shot at Jax.

"That honey pot of yours just cost your brothers their livelihood. Why don't you go home, take one last ride and fuck her good and hard for me before slitting her throat, eh?"

* * *

Jolene yawned so long and hard she thought she felt her jaw snap and crack. Moving from one of the couches, where she was dangerously close to falling asleep, Jolene sat down at one of the tables in the Main Room right across from Filthy Phil. She was probably as clueless as her curly-haired companion, but Jolene couldn't escape the feeling that some seriously demented shit was brewing for Jax to yank her tired pregnant-ass out of bed.

She could really use a shot of liquid courage right about now. Had it not been for Lil' Peanut riding on board, Jolene would have wrestled the bottle of Patron away from Piney and downed half of its contents in one gulp.

Earlier in the evening, Jolene had just fallen asleep when her prepay went off. Bleary eyed, she managed to pull herself together when she heard her old man telling her to get the Prospect and head down to the Clubhouse. Quickly throwing on a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt, Jolene grabbed Phil and literally snuck out of the house, an amazing feat in itself considering his heavy footfalls.

Now, as she waited anxiously for her old man, Jolene once again questioned Piney, who was sitting at his customary seat at the bar.

"Are you sure you don't know what's going on, old man?" She asked, biting her pinky nail down to the quick.

"I said no such thing. What I said was that you need to wait for your old man to get here and fill you in." Piney grumbled.

Jolene rubbed her head. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest.

_Okay, what I need to do is calm the fuck down_, Jolene chastised herself. _The last thing I need is to end up at St. Thomas tonight_.

"Can I get you something, Teach—I mean, Mrs. T?" Filthy Phil still had a hard time remembering he wasn't in high school any more.

Jolene smiled at the earnest young man. "Actually, a bottle of water would be nice. Thanks Phil."

The lumbering teenager walked over to the bar and pulled an ice cold bottle from the fridge and returned to the table. As Jolene opened the bottle and guzzled down half of its contents, Phil said, "You feel better now?"

"Yes, I do." Placing the bottle on the table, Jolene sighed.

She wasn't being exactly truthful. She felt sick to her stomach and, for the first time in recent weeks, she knew it wasn't the baby. The fact that Jax had pulled her out of bed certainly didn't suggest that it was all unicorns and rainbows in the SAMCRO Clubhouse. Other than Piney and the Prospect, no one else was around. Jax had given Piney the word to clear out the Clubhouse of all the hang-arounds, sweetbutts and croweaters. That, more than anything, spoke volumes to Jolene.

Hearing the rumbling of many bikes pouring into the lot, Jolene got up and ran outside to meet Jax and his brothers, and suddenly found herself locked in the strong embrace of her old man. Pulling away from him and seeing the grim look on his face, she realized that the shit had or was about to hit the fan.

"What is it, baby? What happened?" She asked anxiously.

Jax grabbed her face and kissed her deeply, taking her breath away.

"Let's go inside, babe." Jax replied. Pulling her into the Clubhouse behind him, Jax made a beeline for the Chapel. To Jolene's surprise, his brothers followed right behind them.

* * *

Jolene sat in Tig's chair to Jax's right, not quite believing she was actually awake. What she had been made privy to during the last thirty minutes had her convinced that she was dreaming with her eyes open, having a nightmare she couldn't force herself to wake up from. She was overwhelmed with anger and fear, but nothing compared to the blazing hot hatred burning in the pit of her stomach.

_Stahl wants me dead!_

Jolene had known that the bitch was hanging around Charming for a reason. Now, it seemed that Stahl's plan was coming to a head and had literally blown up on the Club. Fighting to keep her pregnant emotions in check, Jolene was suddenly pushed to tears as she was overcome by her feelings of guilt. Her heart ached as she realized that she had led Stahl right to SAMCRO's doorstep and because of it, the Club was losing a business 25 years in the making. Finding herself in the RIRA's crosshairs by being hung out as a rat as well was just the icing on her shit cake.

With her head down, Jolene allowed her tears to fall onto her balled up fists on her lap as her slight shoulders shook with her silent sobs. Feeling a gentle hand smooth down her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, Jolene almost jumped out of her chair as she looked up and to her left. With bloodshot eyes, Jolene watched as Tig pulled out a red bandana from his back pocket and handed it to her.

"Here you go, Doll Face." He said in a near whisper. Nodding her gratitude, Jolene used the kerchief to wipe away her tears. "Better?" Tig asked gently and Jolene nodded.

Looking over at her old man, Jolene felt her heart break all over again. He looked so torn and on the verge of tears himself.

Jolene cleared her throat and shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Jax. I shoulda—I never should've come back to Charming."

Jax flinched, reacting as if she had slapped him in the face. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her towards him and kissed her fingers curled tight around his palm.

With his moist blue eyes boring into hers, Jax shook his head. "Don't ever say that again, Jo. I need you to believe that we're going to see our way out of this, okay, darlin'?"

Sucking in the last of her tears, Jolene nodded. Borrowing a page from Gemma's book, Jolene sat up straight in her chair, determined to be the strongest old lady she could be, the strong old lady Jax needed her to be. She reminded herself that the men surrounding her at the table were her family. Her entire life practically revolved around the MC and before they moved any further, Jolene knew she had to make it completely clear to them where her loyalties lie and where they would always be.

"This is a fuckin' mess." Jolene finally managed to find her voice. Turning to Jax, Jolene squeezed the big, slightly calloused hand that still tenderly held hers. "Baby, you know that I would never—" She started, but was interrupted by Bobby Elvis.

"You need to shut your mouth, little girl." He said gruffly. Jolene's eyes widened and her heart was pounding double-time in her chest. "If you're even thinking of trying to convince us that you're not a rat, then you've lost your damn mind. Just the idea that you would even _think_ that we need to be convinced that this bullshit about you turning on your family's not true is ridiculous, so let's not even waste time talking about it."

Jolene met Bobby's eyes and smiled as he mouthed "I love you, Kit" at her. Forcing herself make and keep eye contact with each of her husband's brothers, Jolene saw not just the love and concern they had for her, but also the stone cold determination to see her through this. Once again, Jolene was fighting a losing battle to keep her emotions in check—damn hormones!

"Bobby's right. What we need to focus on is proving Jolene's innocence to this Irish shithead before he convinces the Kings to drop the Sons like a bad habit." Juice suggested.

"There's a lot more to this picture than what we're seeing." Jax said grimly.

"The timing's off." Opie replied and Jax nodded.

"With a mole inside the ATF, why would Jimmy sit on this info all this time and only spring it on us now?" Happy asked.

"I think you hit it on the head back at Haney's, Jax. They wanted to squeeze more money out of SAMCRO. We played hardball and wouldn't bow down to their bullshit." Tig commented.

"We have an exclusive deal with the Irish. Nobody but SAMCRO has access to their top of the line hardware. You want the best, you come to the Sons." Jax explained. "Just like SAMTAZ wants to cut into our business, so did the Irish because we always turn a profit."

"Maybe he was holding onto the Intel as leverage." Chibs suggested.

"Nah, my gut tells me that since we wouldn't fall into step with his increase, Jimmy O decided to push us out and bring someone else in. He sat on the Intel because he couldn't afford to get rid of us before he had someone else new on board and ready to deal. He played this exactly the way he knew he had to." Jax said.

"But in the grand scheme of things, we're the big fish in the pond that is NorCal. Who can Jimmy O possibly have in mind to replace the Sons?" Bobby asked.

"All the other local MCs are busy with the H and pussy trade. None of them run guns or have a clue how to run the gun business." Piney said.

"I didn't say it had to be another MC." Jax stated.

Tig and Happy looked at each other with wide eyes. "The Russians!" They said in unison.

"Putlova?" Opie asked incredulously.

"You know of any other big fish in the Northwest?" Jax said.

Jolene watched as the patches at the Redwood table went back and forth exchanging, analyzing, and picking apart theories. Most of what was said went over her head, mainly because she was only half listening. The less she knew the better.

Jax wolf-whistled to get everyone's attention. "The 'why' is important, brothers, but not nearly as important as proving to the Kings that my old lady is not dirty. That's the only way we're gonna be able to salvage our relationship with the RIRA." Jax explained. "I have some ideas as to how we can do that, but right now we need to deal with the bigger problem. Even though I _know_ Jimmy O's using this shit to achieve his own ends, if he's telling the truth, the ATF got the Intel on our business with the Irish from somewhere. Chances are, we do have a fuckin' rat."

"Shit, bro. You need to get the fuck out of my head because I was thinking the same thing." Opie said as he pulled out a cigarette, looked at Jolene, and then tucked it back into the pocket of his cut. "It was something Luke said and he stuck his foot in it."

"Yeah, he did." Jax nodded. "And his timing was _way_ fuckin' off."

Not knowing if she was meant to keep quiet as they discussed what amounted to Club business, Jolene decided she didn't give a shit anyway. "What did he say, baby?"

"I can quote the fat prick, darlin'," Jax replied. "He said 'There's no way for SAMCRO to justify the fact that it's been bleeding info to the ATF for over EIGHTEEN MONTHS'."

Jolene's hand flew to her mouth as she was about to bubble forth with hysterical laughter—damn hormones! "Eighteen months? And he accused _me_ of being the rat?" She asked and Jax nodded. "I've only been home since last summer—"

"That's right!" Bobby agreed. "You came back just before Luann's funeral."

Jolene's eyes suddenly glazed over with what Jax was sure was bloodlust. "That filthy fuckin' whore! That cum-guzzling cocksucker!" She almost yelled.

"Yo, I didn't know Doll Face had Tourette's." Tig snarked.

Looking at her husband, Jolene said, "Jax, Jimmy O's right. You _did_ have an old lady hanging around eighteen months ago, but it wasn't me."

"Wendy?" Bobby practically roared. "Goddamnit!"

"Oh shit, really? And we fuckin' let her back into the Clubhouse?" Juice shook his head.

"You know the fuckin' whore's gonna die, right?" Tig promised with a murderous glint in his crazy eyes.

"Like _a lot_." Happy agreed, the light in his eyes dancing merrily.

"It makes perfect sense as to why she would came back after I ran her ass out of town." Jax stated. Taking a moment to think, he suddenly slammed his fist onto the table, making his wife jump in her seat. "She needed a way in, so she hooked up with Huff, an officer of the Club, knowing we probably wouldn't be able to chase her away."

"Could that asshole be feeding her Intel?" Piney was incredulous.

"Probably not on purpose, Pop." Opie replied.

"Or maybe he is!" Tig exclaimed. "The way he's been pushing to get in on the assembly of our merch, they could be in on this shit together."

"Hey, I may not be his biggest fan, but he's still a brother." Jax said. "We need to proceed with extreme caution. Not only do we need proof that will exonerate Jo to the Kings, but any patch stupid enough to leak information, whether on purpose or not, needs to be dealt with."

"We need to move fast, Jax. Find this bitch, pick her up, question her, and then gut her!" Tig said.

"Whoa! Slow down. You really think that the ATF isn't keeping close tabs on her? We need absolute proof that it was her to pass along to the Kings in order to get our business back. Then we'll deal with Wendy without it leading back to us." Jax replied.

As Jax leaned back in his chair, Jolene couldn't help but beam with pride. She had always known that Jax had what it took to lead the Club, but seeing him in action was something else altogether. It was clear that he had the respect and support of the men sitting with him at the table. She also thought about Jax's father, the soft spoken man she remembered from her childhood days. His love for his brothers and his family had been clearly evident on his face, just like his son.

_JT would be so proud of you, baby_, Jolene smiled to herself.

"So what do we do now, brutha?" Chibs asked.

Jolene's heart quivered with anxiety when she heard her old man's reply.

"We talk to Clay."


	16. Russian Roulette

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

Clarence Morrow was not a forgiving man, especially not when his sleep was disturbed. Getting a good night's sleep in his current state—nursing injuries that would take months to heal—was extremely difficult. Not only did the pain of his healing bones keep him up most nights, but the weight of the heavy casts and the itch he could never seem to reach was almost unbearable. Clay coveted every second of sleep he could possibly get, so when it was interrupted, he was not at all happy about it.

Especially when it was about shit that had been kept from him!

As he stared at his son-in-law flanked by his VP and SAA, there was only one thought running through his mind.

_If I could get my ass out of this bed, I'd beat the crap out of all three of them_.

Although dawn had broken a couple of hours ago, with the sky currently overcast, very little light shone through the large window that was directly across from Clay's hospital bed. Only an hour before, Clay had been enjoying the sleep of babes when Jax had knocked on his bedroom door loud enough to wake the dead. As Gemma made her way to ream his ass, Clay had been drifting off again when he realized that the hushed whispers between mother and son were getting louder and angrier. And instead of going away, Jax was insisting on coming in.

"What the fuck is going on, people? I'm trying to get some sleep!" Clay bellowed.

Gemma, who was sporting some serious bed head and was wrapped in an old plaid robe, had a hand cocked on her hip as she turned to face her husband. "It's Jax. He says he needs to speak to you. He won't listen to me, so tell him to go away and come back at a godlier hour of the morning." She complained as she shuffled back to her twin bed, which was next to her husband's.

Clay was about to chew his stepson's ear off, when he saw that both Tig and Opie had followed Jax into the room. Correctly interpreting the looks on their faces, he turned to his old lady. "Baby, you need to leave us alone for a while."

Gemma rubbed at a crusty eye. "Are you serious?"

"Very." Jax replied for his father-in-law. "I'm sorry, Ma, but I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. Just crash downstairs in the family room. We're going to be a while."

Looking at her son through narrowed eyes, Gemma grabbed a pillow and a blanket from her bed and headed out the door, cursing under her breath.

_Whatever this is, it's not going to help Clay get any better. I just know it_.

Now, Clay ran his a hand through his hair. The shit that Jax had finally dropped on him was bouncing around his head, but all Clay could focus on was his rage. Rage against the ATF for going after his kid. Rage against that piece of shit Jimmy O for trying to destroy a relationship that had spanned over two and a half decades. Rage against his son-in-law and Acting President for keeping him in the dark. And rage because his current physical condition would prevent him from enjoying the satisfaction of beating Agent June Stahl into a bloody mass before snapping her pencil neck with his bare hands.

"So," Clay said silkily and softly, which was a dangerous tone for the outlaw biker and usually preceded the moment he started breaking skulls. "You've kept my ass in the dark all this time. You wanna tell me why?"

"Really? The reason why is not obvious to you? Why don't you try scratching your ass first and then tell me why I thought it best to keep this from you until now." Jax reasoned.

"Bullshit—" Clay started angrily, but Jax interrupted him.

"Nah, I'm talking now. Maybe that blow you took to the head has given you selective amnesia, so let me remind you. _You almost died, Clay_. That simple fact alone has affected this Club and your family in ways you don't even know. Your doctors—hell, my old lady and yours made it quite clear that they'd collect their pound of flesh if anyone stressed you out unnecessarily, causing you end to up in St. Thomas again. I agreed because we all knew, _including you_, that you were in no condition to take on the burden of something like this." Jax explained. "See, I'm assuming you chose me to stand in as Acting President because not only did you have faith that I could do the job, but also because you trusted my judgment. So just consider me leaving you out of the loop as a judgment call, but now that you're settled in and are stable, I have enough sense to know when to come to you for counsel. Now, you can lie there and bitch and brood, or you can work with me to protect the Club and our family. I gotta warn ya though, the position of grumpy old man has already been filled and Piney's not gonna give up his spot at the bar for no one. So, what's it gonna be because I don't have all day to stand here and hold your fuckin' hand."

The look on Clay's face could only be described as pissed-off shock and awe. As his father-in-law stared him down, Jax stared him down right back, knowing that under a different set of circumstances the older man would not hesitate to pummel the shit out of him. Which was why the shit-eating grin that suddenly broke out on Clay's face only served to shock and confuse Jax.

"What the fuck are you smiling at?" Jax asked perplexed.

_I just got done tearing a strip off of him and he's grinning at me like I just told him he won the fuckin' lottery_.

"I just had a déjà vu-kinda moment. I was Vice President of this Club for over thirteen years and the last dressing down that I can remember taking without losing my shit was handed to me by my last President—your father. And let me tell ya, you're just as diplomatic as your old man was." Clay chuckled as the other men in the room relaxed. "I guess it's just good to see you take the lead, son."

Jax shook his head. "We weren't gonna keep you in the dark forever, Clay. You know the gun business and our deal with the RIRA better than anyone at the table. More important, you know the Irish Kings. I don't see us getting out this mess without your input, but you do realize the affect your involvement can have on you, right? This shit hits closer to home than just our bottom line."

"I know," Clay nodded in agreement. "And trust me, next time I see baby girl, I'm putting her over my knee. First thing's first, however. What do you plan on doing to keep your old lady safe?"

"Jo doesn't know it yet, but she's under immediate lock-down here at the house." Jax replied.

"Good, but she's got the Prospect Andre the Giant wrapped around her pinky. Get a patch on her, too." Clay suggested.

"Already taken care of." Opie chimed in. "Sack's bunking down here until further notice and Happy put in a call to Tacoma for some back up. In a few hours we'll have a couple of seasoned patches watching the house from the outside."

"Okay." Clay said as he rubbed his gray stubbled face with his good hand. "Thanks to Jimmy O, we now have confirmation of the ATF gash's plan for getting rid of Jolene. Any chance Jimmy's in with the Feds?"

"There's always that chance, but according to Jo's two meetings with Stahl, the ATF is gunning for the Irish." Jax explained. "From what I can tell after reading the Intel Jo has on her, Stahl is looking to move up in the ranks. A big bust will go a long way towards making her Director of the Stockton Division."

"Stahl's hedging her bets." Tig said. "There's only one way to deal with a rat. You squeeze hard enough until they confess what they told and then you squeeze 'em 'til they're dead. My guess, Stahl doesn't trust that Doll Face will end up dead before she tells us about the gash's baby-murdering past. Feeding Jimmy O false information on Jolene gets her killed that much quicker by the Irish."

"And now Jimmy's using that information to kill a long-term business relationship. Why?" Clay asked.

"We have a theory, but from the information Chibs gave us on Jimmy, we can't figure out whether he would be reckless enough to go that route." Opie replied.

"Let's bounce theories, then. Me first." Clay said and then proceeded to run down his list of reasons why Jimmy O had rubbed him the wrong way since the word "go".

Aside from not being Michael McKeavey, Jimmy O'Phelan came across as a dandy, not at all like the soldier Clay had known McKeavey to be. It was obvious by the way he dressed, the car he drove, and the near-perfect tan he sported, that O'Phelan enjoyed the finer things in life. What Clay could see with his own eyes contrasted greatly with the information Chibs had provided several weeks ago. Jimmy O was no more a soldier of the Cause than the Sons were. Clay was willing to bet his ability to ever ride again that Jimmy O was in the gun business for the same reason he was: to turn a profit and make a living.

Clay had heard it said a thousand times before, especially when he was a young kid trying to find his way before he ended up in Vietnam. _Dress for the job you want, not the job you have_. Jimmy O didn't dress like a soldier and Clay was sure that whatever stipend the Council provided O'Phelan for his living expenses while stateside did not include a wad of cash to drop on $2500 designer suits. O'Phelan dressed like a business man because that's what he wanted to be. After his push to end the Sons' association with the Irish, Clay was convinced now more than ever that his attempts to raise the price on their shipments meant Jimmy O was skimming. Of course, he had no proof except what his gut was telling him, but Jimmy had been quick to back down on his refusal to accept SAMCRO's counteroffer when Clay had suggested talking to the Kings personally.

"I think Jimmy O has found himself a new distributor. My guess, someone willing to play nice and give in to his bullshit demands." Literally seeing the light come on in Jax's eyes, he quirked an eyebrow. "I gather from that look that you've come to the same conclusion."

Jax nodded. "Jimmy may have a death wish targeting my old lady, but he's not stupid. He wouldn't cut ties with us, effectively cutting off the cash flow back to Belfast, without a replacement waiting in the wings. After our conversation with the Kings at the wedding, I don't see them breaking a deal with us unless there was an internal threat, like a rat." He replied.

"That makes a whole lot of sense, AP," Clay said. "And in my mind, there's only one crew strong enough to push us out without much resistance only because they outnumber us at least 10 to 1."

"The ROC." Jax supplied and Clay nodded.

"The Russians have their finger in every pie spread across the Northwest. Guns, drugs, pussy, you name it, they own it. Shit, they own law enforcement wherever they set up shop, basically run the prisons and have their way with Port officials. If Jimmy is indeed smart, he tapped the crew running out of Oregon." Clay added.

"Putlova. Jesus, Jax! You called that shit earlier at the table." Tig marveled.

"You did, huh?" Clay asked Jax, who just shrugged his shoulders modestly.

"I had some help."

"Good call." Clay rolled his fingers together, missing the feel of his favorite cigar between them. "This is all good, but it won't help us much in making any headway with the Irish to let us back in, especially as you've already figured out that SAMCRO does indeed have a rat. If Jimmy O is setting the Russians up to take over for the Sons, chances are the deal is pretty much a lock."

Jax nodded. "What are the chances that Jimmy would set this deal up for the Russians free of charge?"

Tig snorted. "Zilch, man."

"You think he brokered the deal for a vig?" Opie asked.

"If he didn't, it doesn't make him much of a business man." Clay replied.

"And if he did, if your hunch about Jimmy skimming is true, who's to say that the RIRA will get its fair share, or that they even know a broker's fee is on the table." Jax added.

"Pocketing the whole vig?" Tig asked. "Shit, that would be pretty ballsy, even for Jimmy."

"It's entirely possible and I'm guessing that might piss the Council off quite a bit." Jax replied.

"Enough to give us our business back." Opie added.

"Absolutely. See, there was no need to wake my sorry ass before the sun came up. You got this, Jax." Clay declared. "All I ask is that you get my baby girl off the Irish radar. We need Intel that points the finger in the right direction and gets her off the hook. The Irish Kings are honorable men and I know that same evidence will help us in taking our business back. Whatever you can get to prove there's money involved that the Kings don't know about might just seal Jimmy O's fate. After that piece of shit is taken care of, you deal with Agent Stahl, you gets?" Clay growled.

Jax nodded grimly. "Figuring this shit out was the easy part, Clay. I doubt Jimmy's gonna slip up any time soon.

"Only fools rush in, Jax. I'm a reactionary—what does baby girl call me behind my back?" Clay asked curiously.

Jax lips curled up in a slight smile. "A reactive nutjob."

"I got news for you, Clay," Tig started. "Doll Face's not the only one that calls you that."

"Fuck you, alright?" Clay groused. "My point is, you're a thinker, okay? You see outside the box and when we're in the shit as a Club, you always manage to see us out of it. You've pulled my reactive ass off the ledge more than once as VP. This is no different, except that it's coming at us in all different directions. Think of it as a challenge."

Opie slapped Jax on the back of his cut. "Don't sweat, bro. We'll figure it out together, but first I think we should get at least a couple hours sleep."

Jax started to protest, shaking his head, but Clay cut him off. "Hey, I knew when to listen to my VP. Learn to listen to yours. Trust me, shit ain't gonna get much worse than it already is. Get some rest and tackle this shit in a few hours. You know where to find me if you need me."

Jax ran his hands over the scruff on his face and through his hair. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Clay was right. Jax needed a clear head to deal with what was coming next and the first step in that direction was getting at least a few hours in the sack to re-energize.

As each of his brothers made their way to the door after saying good-bye with a shoulder-bumping man hug, Clay called out to Jax.

"That crank whore has caused this family a lot of grief, Jax." Clay said ominously.

"Trust me, nobody knows that more than me."

"Good because broad or no broad, there is only one way to deal with her this time. You got the stomach for that?"

Although Jax blamed himself for bringing her into the life he had shared with Jolene the first time around, he had given Wendy an out along with $20,000. He had done her a favor by chasing her out of town because Jax knew how close he had come to causing her harm. He had wanted to kill her for jerking him around about their divorce and then basically blackmailing him into giving her a large sum of money and the house he had brought for Jolene in return for his freedom. It was clear that Wendy did not realize how lucky she was that he had outsmarted her by getting a divorce inReno. Nothing or no one was going to keep him and the woman he loved from being together, even if he had to kill Wendy with his own bare hands.

Now, Jax had to believe that Wendy had finally fried her brain on meth. Wendy had lived the Life long enough to know that turning rat was punishable by death. Working with the Feds to implicate his old lady while covering her own ass just proved that whatever mercy Jax had shown by running her out of town had been interpreted as weakness on his part. He wouldn't be making that mistake again. There would be no second chances for Wendy this time around. It was going to end between them the way it should have ended the first time.

Looking Clay in the eye, Jax nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Jax Teller was going to kill Wendy Case.

* * *

"Are you sure you have that, baby boy?" Neeta asked as she watched Abel struggle up the front porch steps.

"I got it, Miss Neeta. I'm strong just like my Daddy." Abel replied as he carried a canvas shopping bag from Murphy's Stop-N-Shop.

Neeta, who was also burdened down with bags, managed to close the front door with her hip, following Abel across the large foyer and towards the kitchen.

"Well, let's get these groceries in the kitchen and then you can go see your grandpa."

Walking into the kitchen, Abel smiled as he saw his new friend. "Hiya, Bear."

Filthy Phil was sitting at one end of the kitchen table with a massive bowl of cereal. "Hey, Champ." Phil smiled. "Do you need some help with the bags, ma'am?" He asked Neeta.

Eyeing the humongous young Prospect, Neeta shook her head. "No, Abel and I didn't pick up too much stuff. I hadn't planned on food shopping, but as we passed the store after playtime at the park, I got the urge to make Beef Stroganoff for dinner. I only picked up a few things, but by the looks of it, I think we need to get some more cereal." The woman chuckled under her breath as the young man blushed.

_He's a little too young, sweet and polite to be a Prospect_.

Phil shrugged his shoulders. "Miss Neeta, you weren't around to give me one of your especially fantastic meals, so I fell back on my old standby."

Neeta shook her head as she put away the groceries. "Serves you right, young man. Keeping you fed is a full-time job. You either need to learn how to cook or, after patching in, you need to snag yourself an old lady to do your cooking for ya." The housekeeper smiled as Filthy Phil blushed again. "Just don't go hooking up with one of those s-w-e-e-t-b-u-t-t-s." Neeta cocked her head at Abel to explain her sudden spelling fit. "Find yourself a good old lady, like Jolene."

"Yes, ma'am."

After placing his sack of groceries on the table, Abel looked at the young man, whose curly dark brown hair reminded him of a large bear, hence the nickname. "Bear, where's Papa?"

"He's in his room watching TV. He told me to tell you to come watch it with him when you came back."

"Okay. Miss Neeta, we gonna need some cookies." Abel smiled up at Neeta angelically.

"All right, Little Man. I got you covered." Reaching into the Winnie the Pooh cookie jar on the counter, Neeta pulled out a large double chocolate chip cookie with pecans and handed it to Abel on a paper plate. "Here's yours. Now you give these two to your grandpa."

Opening a cabinet, Neeta snickered to herself as she pulled out a box of low-fat vanilla wafers. Hearing a snort come from across the room, she turned to see the Prospect trying to stifle a laugh. Ignoring him, Neeta started to open the box to pull out two cookies when Abel caught her eye.

"What is it, baby?"

The young boy shook his head. "Papa don't like those cookies. He said they taste like cardboard. Can't he have one like mine?"

"I'm sorry, baby, but your Papa is on a strict diet." Neeta replied.

Looking at the box, Neeta couldn't really blame Clay. These weren't even the full-calorie deal she used to make her banana pudding. Jolene had picked these up so Clay could continue his daily ritual of having a cookie with his grandson as they bonded while discussing "man stuff." Neeta had tried one herself and had to spit it out it tasted so bad.

"I guess maybe we can cut him a break today." She put the cookies away and instead pulled out probably Clay's only favorite treat from his new diet, a fat-free chocolate pudding cup and placed it on Abel's plate with a spoon. "Better?"

"Much better." Abel beamed up at Neeta. "Papa likes these."

As he trotted off to the room, Neeta called after him. "And you tell your Papa to let you eat that cookie all by yourself, or he's gonna get it." She ordered.

"I will." Abel called out with a giggle.

Trying not to imagine the sulky expression on the face of the second "child" she was responsible for when he saw his grandson's cookie, Neeta turned her mind to dinner. Remembering the piece of tilapia that she had left in the refrigerator to defrost that morning, Neeta shook her head.

_Hmph! Clay sure ain't gonna be happy that he's eating fish and steamed vegetables while the rest of the family is smacking down on some succulent beef and creamy noodles._

Slamming the refrigerator door closed, Neeta turned to the Prospect. "Where's Jolene? You didn't let her out of the house, did ya?"

Filthy Phil shook his head adamantly. "Oh no, ma'am. She went upstairs. I think she said she was going to take a shower, but I think Mrs. T needs to take a nap instead. She looks kind of tired."

_So you noticed too, huh_?

Neeta Benson had often told her friends that she may not have graduated high school, but she was not a stupid sister. However, it had taken nine years in a state prison before Neeta had finally learned to use the brain that God had been gracious enough to give her. Past indiscretions notwithstanding, He had also given her a boat load of common sense and Neeta decided that now was as good a time as any to put the two to good use. Jolene hadn't been herself lately and Neeta was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Neeta headed for the stairs, which with her bad knee was the bane of her existence.

"My fat ass really needs to lose some weight." She complained to herself as she trudged up the stairs. Reaching the landing, Neeta realized that it was awfully quiet up there, but then she reasoned that maybe Jolene had decided to take a nap after all.

Jolene had been so disappointed that she couldn't join her and Abel for their play date at the park. Neeta thought it was strange that Jolene had not come down to see her baby boy as soon as they arrived, especially since she was sure that the noise her clunker had made as she pulled in was enough to raise the dead. Making a mental note to talk to Jax about getting someone at T-M to check out her car, Neeta headed towards the double doors directly across from the stairs which led to the master bedroom. Neeta knocked on the partially opened door, but got no response. Pushing it fully open, she expected to see Jolene snuggled down underneath the covers in her massive bed only to find it empty. She was about to turn around to walk to the other end of the hall to check Jolene's office when she heard a soft groan.

"Shit on me! That doesn't sound right." Neeta protested.

For a big woman, Neeta could move quickly when she needed to. Rushing into the bedroom, she whipped her head around when she heard the groan again. Spinning around, she saw Jolene laid out on the floor by the side of the enormous tub in the master bath looking as pale as death.

"Oh my God!" In an instant, she was at the young woman's side. Still wet from her shower, Jolene had a damp towel wrapped around her as she tried in vain to get up from the floor. "Okay, take it easy, don't move too fast."

"Fast?" Jolene said weakly, almost breathlessly. "I don't think I can move at all, Neeta."

"Then lie still." Snatching a dry towel that was draped over the tub, Neeta fashioned it into a makeshift pillow and placed it under her head, then grabbed another, larger towel and placed it under Jolene's knees to elevate her legs. Jolene's face alternated between white as a sheet one moment and flushed as if she were sunburnt the next. "I'm getting you some water and then I'm calling Jax."

"Neeta, no! Please don't call Jax just yet. Just get me the water, okay?" Jolene begged anxiously.

Quickly moving to the sink, Neeta ran the cold water at full blast, filling a glass that she found on the sink and returned to the stricken woman. Using her strong right arm to prop her up, Neeta watched anxiously as Jolene drained the glass dry.

"I think I could use a little more." Jolene said.

After about five minutes and another glass of water, Neeta gave a little sigh of relief. Jolene's face had finally stopped doing its imitation of a traffic light and her complexion settled back to its normal golden glow.

"Okay, let's get you up off of that cold floor." Grabbing Jolene's terry cloth robe off of a hook in the bathroom, Neeta ably hoisted her off the ground and, in one quick motion, removed the damp towel and got her into the warm, dry robe. Taking small, tentative steps, Neeta guided Jolene to her bed and deposited her in it, tucking the heavy covers around the prone woman, who managed to sit upright.

Neeta straightened up from her administrations and glared at the young woman.

_Oh, shit. I'm in for it now_.

"How long?" Neeta, although just under 5'6, made an imposing figure when she crossed her arms.

"How long what?" Jolene tried in vain to play stupid while flashing Neeta wide doe eyes.

It wasn't working.

Neeta let out a long, drawn out sigh. "How far along are you and _don't_ try to fob me off. You think I forgot the last time this shit happened?" She started pacing back and forth in her anxiety. "Hell, I could probably guess. What are you, two, maybe three months along?"

Jolene's eyes widened. _Damn, she's fuckin' good_.

"All right. You busted me." Jolene confessed. "I'm pregnant—"

Neeta threw her hands up in the air, a look of fake amazement on her face, and her voice full of snark. "Ooh, surprise, surprise! Why don't you tell me something I _don't_ know, like the numbers for tonight's lotto drawing?"

Jolene rolled her eyes. "Can't help you out there, but what you don't know is that we can't tell—"

Neeta's head snapped back. "_Your husband_? The seriously hot, but crazy old man you're married to? The outlaw that will cut a bitch for coming between him and his family? Are you shittin' me?" She demanded hotly.

Jolene rubbed her forehead, dislodging the towel that held her damp hair, which fell around her shoulders. "No, you don't understand. Jax already knows."

Neeta looked at Jolene disbelievingly as she tried to towel dry her hair. "Oh, my Lord. I need to sit down." Walking around to the other side of the bed, Neeta quickly made herself at home on Jolene's bed and faced her. "You're telling me that he _knows_ you're pregnant? Little girl, you better not be bullshitting me."

"No bullshit. I promise." Jolene held up a hand.

Neeta slowly relaxed her shoulders at that piece of Intel. "Then I don't understand. Abel is going to have a little brother or sister. This is wonderful news! Why are you keeping it a secret?"

"It's my Dad. We can't tell—"

Hearing Jolene's words, Neeta leapt off the bed. Pointing a finger at her, she cut loose. "Oh, no you don't! I love you dearly, girl, but don't you dare pull me into the middle of this shit storm. The last time I helped your mother-in-law keep a secret, I almost ended up one dead black woman at the hands of your outlaw daddy. That was too damn close for comfort. I'm not going out like that, especially since he already hates me for cooking all that healthy shit _you_ are forcing him to eat. He finds out about this, he won't kill the vessel carrying his next grandbaby. Oh no! In his tore up, fucked up state he's likely to sic his crazy-eyed sidekick on me." Neeta threw up her hands. "I might as well slit my own damn throat."

"Neeta, please sit down. I need you to understand."

"Understand what? What's there to understand? Your ass is knocked up!" Neeta practically yelled.

"Sshh! Jesus H. Christ! You want the whole house to hear you?" Jolene implored.

Neeta stomped over to the door, her steps barely making a sound in the plush carpeting, and slammed it shut before returning to the bed. "There, now I can holler all I want. With the soundproofing you had done in here, there won't be any witnesses to me tearing a strip off your stubborn hide." Throwing her hands up again, Neeta implored. "Dear God, please save me from crazy white people and their secrets!"

"Relax, okay? No ripping will be necessary, but you have to hear me out first, damn it." Jolene demanded.

Neeta crossed her arms. "This had _better_ be good."

Quickly, Jolene ran down her list of reasons why she and her husband were keeping the news of their impending joy from her family—at least the reasons that did not go into detail about Club business. As Jolene watched the expressions flying across Neeta's face, she quickly realized that the woman wasn't buying what she was selling.

"Nuh uh."

"Neeta—" Jolene sighed.

The older woman came back to the bed and sat down. "Look, I might cut you a break considering your father's accident. You were rightly worried about him and his condition. And yeah, you have a lot on your plate seeing after him, being strong for Gemma and your family, helping out at the office, while still being a mother to your baby and a wife to your man. I for one can certainly understand that moving your parents into your home and dealing with the HBIC on a daily basis is no easy feat, but you're not thinking this through. Clay and Gemma would be over the moon to know that you're carrying their next grandchild, especially when you consider how much they missed out on with Abel—" Neeta paused. "So that's it."

"What's it?"

"I know you, girl. I've been around you since you were 12 years old. And I know that as much as you love your family, you hate having people muscle in on your independence by hovering over you. I remember what it was like for you after you got shot." Neeta explained.

Jolene dropped her gaze as memories of that dark time of her life came flooding back. Jax had asked her to marry him the night before two bullets to the chest had altered her future and it would be almost five years before she felt such happiness again.

"I felt like a prisoner in my own home, Neeta." Jolene said, referring to her father's lockdown. Remembering the horrible scars on her chest after multiple surgeries, she felt a tear running down her cheek. "I felt like a prisoner in my own body and I never want to feel that way again, especially not because I'm pregnant. This baby means the world to me and to Jax and as long as he knows, that's all that matters to me right now. I'm barely twelve weeks along, so there will be plenty of time to share and enjoy this experience with my family. Just trust me when I tell you that, with everything going on, now is not the right time."

Neeta stared at Jolene long and hard. She had just arrived to work this morning as Jax was leaving for the lot and had overheard Jolene's "disagreement" with her old man. Jolene was apparently on lockdown again, with Jax forbidding her to set foot outside the house, not even to sit on the porch or in her own backyard. As much as Neeta loved her "family", she would never understand how seemingly intelligent and independent women like Gemma and Jolene would choose to live this life, all for the men they loved.

Although Neeta felt like a part of the Teller-Morrow clan, she was still an outsider. But even as an outsider she knew the stress the young woman was under with the Feds pulling her in for questioning as a result of, Neeta was sure, her husband's outlaw lifestyle. There was probably another shitload of grief, that Neeta had no need or desire to know about, weighing heavy on Jolene, none of which was going to help that precious life she carried inside her. Right now, Jolene needed an ally, not more stress.

"You do realize that whatever it is you're going through will have an impact on that little girl on board."

Jolene smiled as she tenderly caressed her flat stomach. "According to Jax, you're dead wrong. He says it's another boy for sure."

Neeta smiled. "We'll see. In the meantime, you need to be careful. I knew something was up. Your eating habits have changed _drastically_, and you haven't had your usual get-up-and-go. Is it just that baby that had you redecorating the floor in there or is it something else? Are you at least seeing a doctor?"

_Damn! She's just too good at digging shit up_.

Jolene moved quickly to soothe Neeta's fears. "I saw one in Stockton to confirm the pregnancy and she prescribed prenatal vitamins, which I'm taking. I made an appointment to see a doctor at St. Thomas, but I canceled it when we got the word that Dad was coming home." Jolene placed a hand on the older woman's arm. "Look, as soon as things calm down and once Jax—" Jolene was about to say once Jax released her from lockdown, but changed her mind. "Once Jax is available, I promise that I'm getting myself checked out by an OB here in Charming as well as my own doctor, Dr. Negron. Neeta, I really need for you to keep mum about all of this. I'll talk to Jax about what happened earlier, I promise, but just keep this incident and my knocked-up status to yourself for a little while longer."

_Damn, I'm such a sucker_.

Neeta shook her head and threw her hands up. "All right, all right, but just remember that keeping secrets from your family is never a good idea. You know, if Gemma wasn't so worked up about Clay, there would be no way you would have gotten away with this for as long as you have."

"Don't I know it? But it won't be for much longer."

"Well, I'm going to go downstairs and make you up a tray of something to eat, maybe some soup and some crackers, a little fruit." As Jolene began to protest, Neeta waved her off. "Now, don't worry. I'll make sure that your father and boy are occupied before I bring it up here and you can hide the dishes away until later. I want you to eat and then stay in that bed for the rest of the afternoon, so that by the time your sexy old man shows up, he won't suspect that your ass was almost a permanent resident on the bathroom floor."

Jolene reached over to hug the woman fiercely. "Thanks, Neeta." As Neeta sauntered to the door, Jolene called out mischievously. "Hey, Neeta, I never realized just how much you appreciate my old man's charms."

Neeta replied without giving her a backwards glance. "Humpf! I may be old and fat, but I ain't dead or blind, honey."

* * *

The sprawling split-level Ranch sat on an elevated hill above the sparkling waters of Blue River Lake. It was a beautiful house situated on an acre of land. Hidden by a heavily wooded tract of land surrounding the property, the retreat seemed no different than any of the other weekend homes bordering the lake, except for the roving patrols of burly men in expensive suits sporting crew cuts and automatic weapons.

Sitting on the deck overlooking the lake, Jimmy O'Phelan and Luke Moran sipped at the ice cold vodka their host had so graciously served them. As Jimmy O absorbed his luxurious surroundings, he smiled at the realization of all his dreams come true. James Patrick O'Phelan, after a wasted youth fighting for a lost cause, would soon become a man of leisure, finally able to enjoy the finer things in life, and he had the Irish Kings and the Sons of Anarchy to thank for it.

It had taken some convincing, and Jimmy was sure that his conversation with Declan Brogan would have gone a lot smoother in person, but he had finally been able to convince the Council to sever ties with SAMCRO. With the information Jimmy had couriered back to Belfast in his hands and in his face, Brogan really had no other choice. After 48 hours of waiting on the edge of his seat, Jimmy had received word that the Council had agreed to kill its deal with the Sons and gave him their blessing to proceed with his plan to bring in the Russians as their new Northwest distributors.

Looking at his shot glass of the best quality Russian vodka money could buy, Jimmy O longed for several fingers of his much-preferred Irish Whiskey instead. But since the vodka they were drinking had been his gift to Putlova, Jimmy O had no choice but to partake of the swill. After all, it would be rude not to be sociable, especially when their host was about to make him a very rich man.

Victor Putlova, the head of the Russian Organized Crime Syndicate operating out of Southern Oregon, better known as the ROC, grinned as he poured himself another shot of his favorite vodka.

"It was very kind of you," Victor said in heavily accented English. "To bring to me a case of my favorite Vodka. It is very hard to locate here in the States."

Jimmy gave the man a charming smile. "It was the least I could do. After all, it is a favorite of mine as well and how could we have a proper toast without the best vodka to celebrate our new business venture?"

Bringing his shot glass up to his lips, Luke took a small sip in an effort to hide his smirk from both men. Jimmy O certainly had the gift of gab, but even in his vodka-induced mellow state, Luke couldn't help but think that what they really needed tonight was the luck of the Irish.

Although Jimmy O often praised his mind for business, Luke was no fool and knew that his rise as Jimmy's second-in-command had more to do his knowledge of weapons and his ability to use them, including his fists, than his brain. When it came down his opinion and advice, even though Jimmy O would hear him out, he almost always did as he pleased anyway.

In Luke's opinion, this meeting with Putlova was over a year too early, but as usual, Jimmy O had convinced him that his misgivings were uncalled for. Instead of waiting a year as they had originally planned, Jimmy couldn't resist taking advantage of SAMCRO's vulnerable position. With Jax Teller at the helm while Clay Morrow recovered from his accident, the news about Teller's old lady was a God-send. While still adapting to his new leadership role, Teller had the added pressure of dealing with the consequences of having a rat in his own bed, as well as any ATF fallout that followed. By the time SAMCRO got their shit together, the ROC would be long-since installed as the RIRA's new partners.

Once again investing his blind faith in Jimmy, Luke turned his attention back to what Putlova was saying. "Is good that we should start our new relationship properly. When can we expect first shipment?"

"It's already on its way, Victor. We expect to make the transfer in four days." Jimmy replied.

Putlova smiled. "Excellent! Jimmy, you made right decision coming to us. My organization is constantly expanding. We will raise much money for both of our causes, yes?"

"Absolutely. It took some convincing getting the Irish Kings on board, but they have finally seen the wisdom of partnering up now. Even though the RIRA has always had great success in doing business with the ROC, there were a few on the Council who considered making the Armenians an offer to expand their business from Southern California. Although the Council have now deemed SAMCRO a liability, they feared that the Sons would not go away quietly and would start trouble that the Armenians would not be able to handle, especially since they have no NorCal crews currently in operation. It quickly became clear that the ROC were the only crew who could handle taking on such an enterprise." Jimmy explained.

"Fortunately for all of us, yes, you can be so persuasive. Then again, I am sure $2 million can be quite persuasive as well." Putlova laughed.

"It certainly helped, my friend, but consider it money well spent, Victor. The Kings have agreed to open a pipeline for more high-powered assault rifles and RPG's to the ROC. This new merchandise will bring you a whole new client base that will triple your business in a year's time."

"It better." Although Victor smiled, Jimmy O could see the stone cold killer hiding behind his eyes. "I would hate forcing a renegotiation of our deal."

Snapping a finger at one of the silent guards standing watch, Luke watched with anticipation and fear as the man retreated into the house. Luke felt naked without his sidearm in his holster as both he and Jimmy had been relieved of their weapons upon entering Victor's home.

_If shit goes sideways, we're dead before we can finish drinking this shitty vodka._

Jimmy O's second-in-command almost gave a sigh of relief as the guard returned with two large duffle bags. Placing them on top of the wooden table, he unzipped both of them to show the contents. Luke's eyes nearly glazed over as he saw the stacks of hundred and fifty dollar bills.

_Finally_, Jimmy closed his eyes and savored the moment.

At 52, he had promised himself that he wasn't going to die an old man fighting a Godforsaken and never-ending war. It was time to look to the future, to make a career change that would propel him into a lifestyle of good times, fine wines, soft, willing women, and the best clothes money could buy. He wanted his share of the spoils of war, but he was no longer willing to wait for them while risking his life. The time had come for Jimmy O'Phelan to finally live the life of a wealthy Irish gentleman that his dear Ma had wished for him on her deathbed.

"You wish to count?" Victor asked.

Jimmy leaned back in his lounge chair and crossed his legs. "Is there a reason I need to?" He replied.

"Of course not, my friend. It would be bad for business to start our relationship by cheating you."

"Just as it would be bad for business for me to start our relationship without trust and insulting you by counting it."

Victor laughed as he slapped Jimmy on the back. "Then, why don't you have your man put the bags in the rooms I have allocated for your use. I have arranged for some entertainment." Snapping his fingers again, the door to the patio opened to reveal several scantily clad women. "Come, you must enjoy my hospitality. Join me at one of my Clubs for the evening before you return to California tomorrow."

Jimmy smiled as a tall dark-haired beauty wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Wrapping his arm around her waist, Jimmy O laughed. "Why the hell not?"

_To the victor belong the spoils of war_!

* * *

The moonlight shone brightly and danced on the water, making it sparkle despite the pitch darkness of the night.

For the second time in as many days, Jax had made an unexpected trip up to the streams. In the silence so loud it roared in his ears, Jax leaned against the base of a large tree. Coming here had always been like a salve for his damaged soul, especially during Jolene's time away from Charming. The streams had borne witness to many a rendezvous he had enjoyed with his old lady when they had first become a couple. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered that the tree he was leaning against had been one of their favorite spots for "target practice".

Jax itched to light a cigarette, but decided against it. Not only was he down to less than a half a pack nowadays, but lighting a cigarette would serve as a beacon to anyone in the area and, for this meet, he needed to remain low profile. In hindsight, the streams may not have been the best place for a meeting under the cover of night, but at least Jax was familiar with the territory.

The fact was, Jax still didn't know what to make of the call he had received earlier this evening as he was about to head home. He had been tempted to tell Hale to fuck off, considering the weight of the problems that he was currently shouldering, but curiosity had bested him. Jax was anything but careless when it came to business and his gut was telling him that Hale had called this meet for more than just jerking his chain. Or, his brain reasoned, he could be walking right into an elaborate ATF trap. Not ready to go down without taking care of some business first, Jax had come with insurance backing him up just in case things went sideways.

Hearing what was undoubtedly Hale's Jeep Wrangler, Jax turned his head and saw him pull into a shadowy clearing. Cutting off the engine, Deputy Chief David Hale stepped out of his vehicle as Jax strolled over to him.

"Glad you showed up." Hale said by way of greeting.

"I wasn't going to. After all, I think we pretty much said everything we needed to say the last time we met outside Charming." Jax replied, referring to the epic beat down he had given the deputy chief. "So why did you drag my ass out here, man? I have a warm bed and a loving old lady to get home to."

Hale looked at the hardened outlaw biker, his cut gleaming in the moonlight, and smirked. Part of him couldn't believe that he was here, that he had actually initiated this meet.

_I'm not Wayne Unser. I am an officer of the law and I shouldn't be here, _Hale berated himself_._

But at the same time, Hale thought about the young woman who shared her life with the man standing before him. He knew that, despite all of the crimes perpetrated by Jackson Teller and his brotherhood, he could not allow harm to come to Jolene Teller. If it was within his power to prevent such a thing from happening, then he had no choice but to act as he was about to.

"Let's be perfectly clear, Jax. I don't like you. Our differences aside, we are too much alike. Too stubborn, hard-headed, and we both have codes of honor we would die for. In spite of being at opposite ends of the spectrum, in another life," Hale shrugged. "We might have been friends."

"Maybe, if a certain woman weren't involved," Jax shrugged his shoulders as well. "But I still find it rather unlikely."

"Yeah, maybe," Hale agreed. "But there is one other thing that we do have in common, Jax and that's this town and its inhabitants. In your own warped way, I know that you don't want any harm coming to an innocent. Neither do I, not on my watch. And even though I will _never_ sell out to SAMCRO, sometimes you have to make a deal with the devil."

"And SAMCRO's that devil." Jax shook his head as he chuckled bitterly.

"You're definitely not angels," Hale shot back. "But you do your best to protect your family and I want to help."

At Hale's words, Jax stiffened. "And what does _my family_ have to do with you?"

"Jolene—" Hale started.

Taking a step towards Hale, Jax growled. "Be very careful where you go from there."

Hale continued. "If there is anything in this world that can redeem your soul, it's the choice you made in marrying Jolene. She may be your old lady and the daughter of a criminal, but she's a good person, Jax. The ATF going after you and the Club is one thing. Stahl putting an innocent woman in grave danger is something else."

In a flash, Jax had Hale by the throat. "What the fuck are you talking about? What do you know?"

Jerking out of his chokehold, Hale shoved Jax back. "You might want to refocus your anger just a bit." Breathing hard, Hale walked over to the passenger side of his Jeep, reached in and pulled out a thick envelope. Walking back towards Jax, he handed it to him.

"What's this?" Jax glared at Hale.

Hale walked back towards his ride, but turned back to face Jax. "It's important shit you need to know. Look, Jax. I'm a badge, you're a criminal. I go after you. I stop you. You go away. That's what I do and that's the business I want to get back to. I am not about to let an outsider come in and disrupt that balance by fucking with my town. Jolene is a good woman, more than you deserve, but I know you love her and more importantly, she loves you and I know she believes she is safe with you. So prove it because this shit," Hale pointed at the envelope in Jax's hand. "Should not go down like this."

Getting into his ride, Hale started the motor. "You know, I'm actually surprised you decided to meet me out here all alone."

Jax's smile glinted in the moonlight. "And I'm surprised you would think that I came here alone." Jax whistled sharply. Suddenly, Hale heard the distinctive click of a high-powered rifle being cocked. Looking down, Hale was shocked to see the red dot aimed dead center on his chest.

Jax turned to walk back towards his bike, which was parked on the other side of the tree. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Deputy Chief."

* * *

Hale accepted another drink on the house from Patsy. He was grateful for it. It was his fourth whiskey and far from being his last. Hale had already given Patsy his car keys and directed the old man to point him in the direction of the station house when the time came for him to leave. Hale knew he would be better off sleeping on the tiny couch in his office rather than risk getting behind the wheel.

After his meeting with Jax Teller, drunk and on the verge of passing out was where he was headed and where he needed to be. Seeing the red dot of the rifle scope on his chest had caused his colon to clench, which he was grateful for because the other alternative would have left him staining his boxers brown. Pulling off and exiting the area, Hale couldn't shake the perpetual fear of feeling a bullet tear through the flesh, veins and arteries in his chest. He'd be dead before his head hit the steering wheel.

Fortunately, Teller had decided not to kill him. _That would be the thanks I get for trying to save his Club from killing his old lady_.

Hale was at war with himself over what he had done because only God knew what events he had set in motion by giving Jax the Intel he had pilfered from June's office. It hadn't been easy getting his hands on the material as Stahl had been paranoid to the point of obsession making sure that the highly classified material stayed out of the wrong hands. Fortunately for Hale, she had trusted him, or at least she had until he had questioned her judgment on setting out an innocent woman as bait.

Now Hale sat, stewing over the decision he had made and the possibility that by saving one woman, he had knowingly and willingly signed the death warrant of another. In the end, Hale had set himself up as Judge and Jury, with SAMCRO as Executioner. Wendy Case was a human being after all, but unlike Jolene, she had squandered her life to drugs and ended up caught up in a web of lies of her own making. Stahl was willing to throw Jolene Teller, a young mother and well-respected high school teacher, under the bus in order to protect the former stripper and current meth junkie.

Wendy, along with her Nord boyfriend, had gotten into a shit stew with the ATF and because Hale believed that Jolene should not have to pay the price for loving the wrong man, he had put Wendy in SAMCRO's crosshairs. That was a decision he would probably live with for the rest of his life, but it had come down to a choice really. Although he believed that his feelings for Jolene had finally died, mostly due to lack of attention on her part, a part of him still cared enough that he could not allow her to be left at the mercy of June Stahl.

Stahl worried him greatly. As much as he hated SAMCRO and what they stood for, Hale could not see himself working outside the law in order to bring them down. Stahl's lack of remorse and her willingness to do anything to get the job done had convinced Hale he was dealing a sociopath, someone devoid of a conscience and, if recent outbursts of unprovoked anger were an indication, she was mentally unstable, as well. It was that instability that had allowed Hale to make the tough call of working with SAMCRO in order to stop her.

Hopefully someday, someone would realize that the woman was a danger not only to others, but to herself as well. In the meantime, all Hale could do was sit and drown his own conscience.

Even if only for one night.


	17. Luck O' the Irish

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**A/N: First off, I know you guys were probably looking for a new chapter this past Sunday. **** My apologies, but I decided that this chapter needed a major overhaul and I ended up having to rewrite a lot of the scenes. It's an important chapter and I really wanted to get it right for you guys, so I hope that the wait was worth it and that you will let me know by your reviews.**

**Second, I have been trying to keep my chapters on the less wordy side. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to work for this chapter unless I split it into two. I decided against splitting it up because I didn't want to leave you with a cliffhanger and I really hate dragging out story arcs. Please enjoy and remember, your love hits are always greatly appreciated!**

* * *

Clay sat in his motorized wheelchair and watched as his brothers absorbed every bit of Intel currently spread out on the coffee table and any other available flat surface in the Tellers' living room. By the looks of it, there seemed to be no end in sight to this interminable evening that had stretched into the wee hours of the morning after Jax had returned with the contents of Hale's envelope burning in his hands. It was pushing two o'clock in the morning and the Club was waiting to hear from Jax, who had locked himself in his man cave for his second phone call tonight with the Irish Kings.

After returning to Charming from his meeting at the streams, Jax headed straight to the Clubhouse instead of home. He couldn't escape the nagging feeling that whatever was in the thick envelope was something that could not wait to be dealt with until morning. Deputy Chief Hale had been clear in acknowledging that he was bending the rules by giving Jax this information. What he hadn't said in so many words, but which came across painfully loud and clear to Jax nonetheless was the fact that he was doing it all for Jolene.

The envelope contained an original ATF file, the contents of which were so explosive that Jax knew that Hale had risked more than just his reputation as a do-gooder by getting it to him. He had risked his badge and quite possibly his freedom for tampering with a federal investigation. Jax chafed at the thought, but he knew he would forever be indebted to David Hale for giving him the proof he needed to exonerate his old lady.

Jax had spent the better part of two hours in the Chapel reading and re-reading report after report, handwritten notes transcribing in-depth telephone calls and face-to-face meetings with Wendy Case, agendas and notes for meetings to discuss what had been termed "Operation Luck O' the Irish." And then there were the photos.

Setting aside the ones he knew would be of great interest to the Irish Kings, Jax had not been surprised to see numerous photos of his old lady. That is, until he continued flipping through them and saw that they ranged from very recent to as far back as Jolene's short time spent studying in San Diego. Feeling like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him, Jax held his head in one hand as he sorted through the photos and realized that Jolene had been under surveillance by the ATF since she had left Charming almost five years ago.

In the pile of over three dozen photographs were images of the woman he loved during the time they had been apart, starting with the last time they had seen each other in San Diego. Jax rubbed his hand over his mustache and down the hair on his chin as he picked up a photo of him and Jolene, taken seconds before she had hurled her friend's phone at him. His heart nearly stopped in his chest when he saw her lugging groceries while pregnant with Abel, followed by him standing on Ronnie's doorstep not knowing that Jolene had been close enough to hear every word he had said. He couldn't stop his own tears of anger and frustration from spilling over at the sight of Jolene being wheeled from Ronnie's house on a bloody stretcher.

Jax's nostrils flared and he suddenly slammed his fist onto the Redwood table. "She was in intensive care!" He growled, not understanding how the ATF could justify taking pictures of his wife and son shortly after his birth, when they had both been so close to death. Jolene was ghostly pale and attached to a heart monitor while a premature Abel had been in an incubator under heat lamps and barely recognizable as a baby, much less one that would thrive into the rambunctious half-devil, half-angel he was today.

After reading the transcript of Jolene's first interrogation by the ATF and all notes attached to the surveillance photos, he had been in such a rage that Jax barely remembered riding home. At the sound of his bike, Jolene had rushed downstairs to apologize about losing her shit in the morning, only to be swept into Jax's arms.

Hugging her tight, he peppered her face with kisses before whispering in her ear, "I love you, baby."

"I know, that's why I'm so sorry about this morning—" Jolene said as she pulled away, but Jax was shaking his head.

"Don't worry about that, darlin'. Is Abel sleeping?"

Jolene nodded, her eyes wide. She could feel the tension rolling off of him. "I tucked him in about an hour ago."

"Good. Neeta gone? I didn't see her car." Jax asked.

"Yeah, it's just Gemma, Dad, Phil, and Kip hanging around, plus Kozik and Donut outside. Is something wrong?"

With the memory of the photos of his old lady serving drinks in skimpy lingerie at the Lollipop Café still burning in his mind's eye, Jax shook his head. "It'll all be over soon, baby, but I can't get into it now. I need you to go upstairs and stay there. I'm calling an emergency meeting in about an hour, but first I need to talk to Clay."

Jolene nodded and, standing on the tip of her bare feet, kissed Jax tenderly before turning on her heels and running back upstairs.

That had been almost four hours ago. After discussing the most pertinent contents of the file with relation to their problem with the Irish in depth with his stepson, Clay had prepared Jax for the phone call of a lifetime. Even though Clay had a relationship with the Irish Kings that went back almost thirty years, as Acting President, it was Jax's duty to step up, present the Intel they had, and negotiate to get their gun deal back.

As Jax made that call down in his man cave, Juice had come over to send certain information for the Council to consider over a secure network. Anticipating that the Kings would take their time in digesting and considering the information he had provided, Jax had called his brothers to his home for an emergency meeting. Unexpectedly, Declan Brogan had returned his call before Piney made his way down from his cabin.

"Damn, Clay. This is some serious shit." Tig said as he finished reading one of the reports and handed it over to Opie.

"Yeah, and it all has the potential to blow back on the RIRA, but nothing in here links them directly to SAMCRO." Juice said, flipping through several photographs unaware that Jax had redacted certain ones from the pile in order to protect his old lady's reputation. "Is this all of it? I mean maybe Hale's holding onto some info to use later on against the Club."

"That's always a possibility." Jax said as he entered the room and promptly collapsed into the plump softness of one of the unoccupied armchairs. "At this point, I'm not sure which way is up anymore, but my gut tells me Hale was being sincere."

Clay leaned towards Jax. "Anything you want to share?" He almost whispered.

Jax nodded. "Just give me a minute to process." He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands. He could probably count on two hands the hours he's slept since all hell had busted loose and still have fingers left over.

"Sincere he may be," Opie started as he cast a knowing glance at Jax. "But I, for one, am still shocked as shit that he would do this for SAMCRO. After all, this is _Captain America_ we're talking about, not Unser."

"He didn't do this for the Club. He did this for Kit." Bobby stated matter-of-factly as Jax, Clay, and Opie shot him a look that screamed "What the fuck, dude?" "Hey, the time for pussyfooting around the issue is long gone, Jax. I'm just calling it like I see it with no disrespect intended. Unser couldn't get within ten feet of this Intel. Deputy Dog's the only one in the entire station house in Stahl's inner circle. We couldn't buy him with money, so that leaves only one other thing an otherwise sensible man would throw caution—and maybe his career—to the wind for and do something as stupid and reckless as this."

Tig sniggered. "You saying Hale's got the hots for Doll Face?"

"What are you, blind or just plain stupid?" Piney called out from his corner of the room.

"Neither, bro. I'm just cautious. Doll Face has a real whack job for an old man. I prefer keeping my balls in my pants and not hanging like a trophy in his man cave." Tig replied, smiling at Jax. Jax had pushed his rapidly growing hair back and eyeballed his SAA like a testicle trophy was still a possibility. "Hey, you shoulda let me take that shot, man. I could've splashed his guts all over the streams while I had him in my sights, especially since my ass was up that fuckin' tree for almost an hour." Nudging Happy, Tig boasted, "Bro, I had the _perfect_ kill shot, too."

"Shit, bro. Why didn't you let him take it?" Happy quickly sided with his brother-in-blood. "I hate fuckin' pigs."

"Can we just drop Hale and his reasons for giving us the file? We weren't there to kill a cop. Fact is, asshole or not, he did us a solid. The proof he gave us was enough to convince the Kings that my old lady wasn't the rat," Jax stated wearily. "And on top of that, Brogan gave us the go-ahead to take Jimmy and Luke out."

Suddenly, the room erupted with Happy and Tig almost doing a jig and questions being hurled at Jax from all directions. But the one that caught everyone's ear and caused the room to fall silent again came from Half Sack.

"You wanna repeat that?" Jax asked, trying hard not to smirk as he could hear Clay and Opie chuckling beside him.

"I said, take 'em out, meaning like kill 'em, right?" Half Sack rubbed his forehead and wished he had just kept his mouth shut.

"No, brutha," Chibs started with a dead pan look on his face. "I think he meant dinner and a movie."

Feeling the tension in the room ease a bit as his brothers joked and gave the new patch a hard time, Jax let himself laugh and when he did, he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. They just had to get there.

Clay and Piney were the first two to sober up and stop laughing. The fact was that they had lost a good friend in Michael McKeavey and, thanks to the information contained in the pilfered ATF file, they now knew who was truly responsible.

"So I take it that the Kings didn't take kindly to seeing evidence of Jimmy O's involvement in McKeavey's death." Clay said, thinking of the grainy black and white pictures Jax had forwarded to the Council in Belfast. The photos had been taken from a security camera at the Oakland docks. In them, Michael McKeavey was being slowly beaten to death by Luke Moran with a billy club, while a jubilant Jimmy O watched.

"No, they didn't," Jax replied. "And judging by their reaction, the pictures only served to confirm something they suspected all along. Apparently, they believed that Jimmy had been skimming while brokering deals in Eastern Europe. That's why they reassigned him to NorCal. Jimmy O believes his own publicity and is a legend in his own mind. He thought himself untouchable, but the Council knew that if anyone could smoke him out, it would have been McKeavey."

"So Michael was onto him, that's why they killed him?" Piney asked angrily.

"That's one of the reasons." Jax confirmed.

"And the other?" Tig asked.

"Jimmy's first order of business was trying to convince McKeavey to cut ties with the Sons. He had made contact with Victor Putlova, who was showing interest in expanding his business to include gun running. Jimmy had even mentioned a $1 million vig, which the Kings are sure was actually at least double that, but McKeavey nixed the idea. He knew and trusted the Sons and believed that if it wasn't broke, don't fix it. McKeavey became an obstacle." Jax explained. "The big red flag was setting up Brenan Hefner, the Oakland port official for his murder. Hefner's mother was a first generation Irish-American. She and Irish King Peter Dooley's grandmother were cousins. Hefner was as loyal to the Cause as McKeavey."

"The ATF wanted Jimmy O, so if Stahl had these pics all along, why didn't she just go after them from the get?" Juice asked.

Jax leaned back in his chair. "Jimmy O was just a means to an end. Stahl wanted to bring down the RIRA. She was pressuring Wendy to confirm the identities of the Council, information that even as an old lady she never would have access to. I'm sure that if every other play of hers hadn't panned out, she would eventually buckle and try to get O'Phelan and Moran to roll by picking them up for murder. Even then, it would have been unlikely. Jimmy had to know that the docks are under heavy surveillance. He just didn't give a shit."

Clay was still looking at the photos of his friend. Seeing the pain that he had endured, Clay slammed his good fist on the armrest of his chair. "Michael was a good friend, so what's the plan, AP, because I want this fat bastard to die slowly and painfully."

"And I don't mind volunteering for the job." Happy raised his hand, all the while wondering where he would place his next smiley face tattoo.

"Noted," Jax smirked. "But first, we have to track Moran down. The Council will get information to us on several safe houses throughout NorCal through McGee. They want a confession and they want us to go as far as necessary to get it, and they want it on video. Jimmy has a lot of supporters back in Belfast and the Kings want plausible deniability. They want to be able to claim their hands are clean when we finally get rid of Jimmy. We only get one shot at this, so we CANNOT fuck it up. Juice, you should get that Intel in the next few hours. As soon as you do, start pinpointing locations."

"Oh man, brutha, getting rid of Jimmy could wreak havoc for the Cause in Belfast." Chibs chimed in. "And potentially bring a world of trouble to our doorstep."

"Especially since it seems like this plan to bring in the ROC is a done deal. With $1 million at stake, do you really think we'll get our business back?" Bobby asked. "SAMCRO is not hurting for money, but we ain't got scratch like that to counter an offer made by the Russians to keep the new arrangement even after Jimmy's gone."

"I really don't think it's about the money with the Irish. It's about loyalty. Jimmy was a trusted soldier and he betrayed the Cause. At this point, it's about honor." Jax replied.

"Okay, so we pick up Luke. Flay him a little, set fire to his genitals until he confesses, ON VIDEO, of course, then we kill him." Tig was almost rubbing his hands together. "How do we get rid of Jimmy?"

"He's due back in Belfast in, what, the next 48 hours?" Chibs asked for confirmation.

Jax nodded. "He uses a boat he keeps docked at the marina on Alice Street in Oakland to get to Canada. I have a couple of ideas I want to talk to Ope and Bobby about."

"What about the rat-faced ATF bitch?" Happy growled. "And her junkie source?"

"We'll deal with the both of them later. They're not going anywhere and right now, our window to nail Jimmy O and Luke is closing, fast." Jax said.

The strategy session continued well into the early morning before Jax slammed the gavel down and called it a night.

* * *

Jax rubbed his face wearily as he headed up the stairs. The events of the day had been overwhelming, to say the least. What he needed was a good night's sleep, which he knew he wasn't getting any time soon, so a couple of hours would have to do before heading back to the Clubhouse.

Jax stopped briefly to peek into Abel's room. Seeing his son sleeping peacefully brought him a sense of contentment.

_All I know is the outlaw life, son and all I can hope to do is protect your legacy._

Thinking that it was best to forego a shower in order to avoid waking up his old lady, Jax was surprised to find her wide awake and reading a book.

_I should have known she would stay up._

Unlike Gemma, who had balked a little when Jax "requested" that the old ladies vacate the first floor for the emergency meeting, Jolene had not batted an eyelash, and had retreated to their master bedroom. Clay, on the other hand, had to not-so-gently nudge Gemma away before she reluctantly headed to the family room to get lost in a marathon of The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

Jolene, however, knew her man well and could not bring herself to go to sleep knowing that he might need her and was prepared for the time when he finally made his way to their bed. Leaning against the massive headboard, his old lady's face showed the concern she had for him.

"Hey, baby." She put her book down and beckoned him towards her.

Closing the door behind him, Jax crossed the plush carpet, stripping off his cut as he walked. Tossing it onto the foot of the bed, he climbed fully clothed on top to rest his head on Jolene's lap. For a long while, the couple said nothing. Jolene simply stroked his blond hair, which had grown considerably since leaving Chino and which curled around her fingers. Jolene smiled to herself, thinking how much she loved that.

Finally, Jolene spoke, her voice as soothing to his soul as her touch. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Jax sighed. "I'm not sure."

"Oh, then I'm afraid we have a problem." Jax's eyes flew open as he could hear the mischievous grin in her voice.

Wrinkling his brow, Jax flipped onto his back in order to stare into Jolene's determined seafoam green eyes. "And why do we have a problem, darlin'?"

Arching one eyebrow seductively, Jolene let the wine-colored comforter tucked under her arms fall to reveal her creamy breasts, the titanium nipple piercings winking in the glow of the soft light coming from the lamps on the night tables.

"You can't clam up on me, baby. I'm completely naked right now, so the full disclosure rule is in full effect."

Jolene smiled to herself as she saw her old man's eyes latch on to her breasts. The wicked sparkle in his eyes making the pain of putting the bars through her pregnancy-swollen nipples all worthwhile.

"Shit, darlin'," Jax ran his hand over his face before closing it over one of her supple orbs, the tender flesh of her pink nipple tightening into a bud as his thumb lightly grazed over it. "Are you trying to kill me?" All thoughts of getting some sleep were pushed to the back of his mind as soon as Jolene had dropped the comforter.

_I can live to be a hundred and the sight of her tits will still get me going each and every time._

"I love you, Jax. I know sex won't fix anything, but I know my man and I know it'll make you feel a lot better." Jolene smiled wickedly. "I'm your old lady and I want to take care of you, any way you need me to. I suggest physically first. You can unburden yourself and unload on me later, okay?"

With a half-grin, Jax wrapped his palm behind her neck, pushing himself up as he pulled her towards him for a kiss. As their lips crashed against each other, Jolene brought herself onto her knees, her mouth whipping Jax into a frenzy as she alternated invading his with her tongue and biting his lips. Jax groaned, his hand balling into fist in the hair at the back of her head as she pushed him onto his back. Pulling away and slightly breathless, Jolene pushed his white SAMCRO t-shirt up. As Jax yanked it off, Jolene dropped kisses onto his rippled chest and down his abs until she reached his happy trail beginning at his belly button.

"Oh, yeah, baby." Jax heard himself moan as his old lady straddled him in reverse, her tight round ass and pretty pink pussy mere inches from his face as he felt her unbuckle and unzip his pants. Not bothering to take his jeans off, Jolene pulled his stiff cock out of his boxers. Throwing her loose long curls back, she looked down at Jax over her shoulder and smiled at him as he dug his fingers into the flesh of her hips. "You are so fuckin' hot, Jo." He nearly growled.

"And don't you ever forget it." Jolene laughed as she teasingly stroked his dick with both fists. "Especially when I start getting fat with your baby."

Jax chuckled, his eyes closed as he focused on the pleasure she was giving him with just her hands. Taken by surprise, Jax suddenly groaned as he felt himself hit the back of her throat as her lips wrapped tightly around him. "Fuck! Never, baby, I promise."

Opening his eyes, Jax growled again as he caught sight of the view that was now open to him as Jolene was bent forward and over his dick, loving him with her mouth. Deciding to return the favor, he pulled her ass towards him. Now it was Jolene's turn to moan around the more-than-a-mouthful that was her husband as she first felt his fingers break through her folds and then his tongue.

Pulling him out of her mouth, Jolene fell against his denim-clad thighs, her hand still stroking him as he forced sounds out of her that sounded foreign to her ears.

"Oh God, Jax!" She was panting, trying to control the urge to push herself against his face as she felt the familiar and delicious heat building in her core. "Fuck!" Reaching back, Jolene grabbed a fistful of his hair, unable to control the scream that escaped her lips as Jax held onto her hips, her clit vibrating against his tongue as she came.

Pushing her onto her back, Jax pulled himself up. Hovering over her, he smiled as Jolene tried to catch her breath. "I am so glad we sound proofed this room, darlin'. I think you pierced one of my eardrums."

"Shut up!" Jolene playfully swatted at him. "And come here." She pulled him towards her with her legs now wrapped around his waist.

Jax bit into his upper lip, his face suddenly serious as he pushed himself into her moist heat, forgetting about wanting to get out his jeans. With their eyes locked, Jolene pushed several unruly locks away from his face and tucked them behind his ear. Gently thrusting into her as he rolled his hips, Jax dipped his head and kissed her softly.

"I promise, Jo, I'm working on making everything right again."

"I know, baby, and I have no doubt that you will." Jolene whispered back against his lips. "I trust you with my life."

And because she did, Jax knew that he would not be able to rest until he told her everything as he expected it to go down. But right now, he was going to make love to her like it was their last time.

And considering how many different ways shit could go sideways for him and his family in the next 48 hours, it could be their last time in a long time.

Or ever.

* * *

It was barely nine o'clock in the morning and Clay was lying wide awake in his bed. Being awake at this hour of the morning wasn't unusual for him, especially since his accident. With Neeta getting to the house between 8 and 8:30 most mornings, the Prospect Tiny Tim would help him get ready in order for him to have breakfast with his family before everyone took off in different directions for the day.

But today was different.

It had been way after five o'clock in the morning before Clay had finally made it to bed. And once there, he didn't feel much like sleeping. His mind was too active and he had been wired. This was a crucial turning point for the Club and it killed him that he had been sidelined. With Jax at the helm, however, Clay was positive that all would work out in the end and SAMCRO would have its gun business back.

What had Clay concerned the most for his son-in-law was how he would deal with the ATF gash and her stoolie Wendy Case. Although the prospect of losing their livelihood had been an unexpected blow, the fact was the Club still had plenty of ways to make money, the garage and Cara Cara being just two. Although none of the men who sat at the Redwood table had ever set foot inside an institution without bars, much less one of higher learning, there was a lot of brain power backing the presidency of SAMCRO. Clay knew that without gun running, someone would eventually come up with a scheme that allowed the Club to earn big again, and Clay knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Jax Teller would be the one to figure some shit out for them to do.

Jax was the embodiment of an outlaw biker. Clay, along with his other First 9 brethren, had chosen the Life, but had to strip away years of a middle-class upbringing before they could truly call themselves outlaws. Having been born into an MC, the Life had _chosen_ Jackson Teller. He simply didn't know any other way to live, and more importantly, didn't care to. But like most supermen, Jax had a weakness and Clay knew that his beautiful, strong-willed, and insanely smart daughter was Jax's. He had witnessed the young man brought to his knees more than once because of the love he had for Jolene.

Almost losing her to a would-be assassin's bullet had devastated Jax. Losing her for almost five years, knowing that she was alive and keeping herself hidden from him, had almost killed him. Now, with knowledge of the information contained in the file Hale had stolen from the ATF, Jax was in that fragile state of mind again where he didn't care what dark path the love he had for his old lady took him down as long as he could protect her and keep her by his side.

Remembering the contents of the file, Clay couldn't really say he blamed him. Agent June Stahl had a dangerous hard-on, not only for the Club, but for his little girl as well. She had employed every dirty trick she knew in order to get Jolene to turn rat. When that didn't work, instead of letting her go on with her life away from the MC, Stahl had caused Jolene to lose a prestigious job at some hoity-toity school. Clay was sure that had been another smart, yet devious play on the agent's behalf to get Jolene to run back to her family.

Even though the plan eventually worked and Jolene had returned home, Stahl had made a fatal error in judgment by following her back to Charming. Jolene had found her way back into the over-protective and possessive arms of her old man. After discovering that the ATF had been tracking Jolene for years, Jax was more determined than ever to make anyone who disrupted his happy home pay for their transgression in blood. Although Clay supported Jax's plan for dealing with Stahl, his only wish was that the father of his grandson did not act in haste and end up in a cell right next to Lenny Janowitz for killing a Fed.

The soft knocking on his door brought Clay out of his own thoughts. "Daddy, are you awake? Can I come in?"

Clay smiled. He was sure Jolene had gotten as much sleep as he had, but you could never keep a natural born early riser down and that was Jolene since she was a little girl.

"Come on in, baby girl." Clay called out.

Nudging the door open, Jolene entered the room with a beaming smile and a TV tray table with two covered dishes and a mug. "Neeta had to go to Stockton today, so I made you breakfast."

Clay attempted a half-heartedly enthusiastic smile which looked more like a grimace. "Gee, thanks, sweetheart. You shouldn't have."

_Really, you shouldn't have_, Clay thought disdainfully as he cursed the stupid diet his doctor was trying to kill him with.

"I can see you're overjoyed." Jolene smirked, handing him a mug of what Clay was sure was some watery decaf. "Here, start with this."

With a fake smile plastered onto his face, Clay brought the mug to his lips, his nostrils suddenly assaulted by the magnificent aroma of REAL coffee. He had to take a sip first to be sure, but his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head when he did.

Afraid to say anything in case it was a mistake, Clay was ready to wrestle his daughter if she dared try to take it away.

"Good, huh?" Jolene smiled, wishing she could have a cup of strong black coffee herself. "Get a load of this." She lifted the plastic covers off one of the plates.

Clay's eyes rounded in wonderment as he saw a short stack of pancakes, eggs over easy, and three fat and juicy sausage links. "Funny. Teasing your father with your breakfast is not only mean but heartless." Clay grumbled, waiting for her to lift the lid off of his breakfast of egg whites, dry wheat toast, and fruit.

"Actually, this is _your_ breakfast. Unless you want mine." Jolene removed the lid from the second plate. "I made myself French toast using Uncle Elvis's homemade cinnamon walnut bread, but you can have it if you want, Daddy." She smiled pleasantly as she pulled a linen napkin from under one of the plates and draped it around his neck.

Clay was blinking rapidly, trying to convince himself that he was dreaming. Retrieving a tray table from one of the closets, Jolene set it across his lap and fluffed up his pillows in order to prop him up comfortably.

"After breakfast, I'll get Phil in here to help you get out of bed." Jolene dropped a kiss on her father's forehead. "So, what'll it be? Pancakes or French toast?"

"Pancakes." Clay replied, bewildered as he watched his daughter pick up his plate and set it before him, along with a bottle of maple syrup she pulled out of the front pocket of her apron. "You feeling alright, baby girl?"

Making eye contact with her father, Jolene quickly looked away, but not quick enough. Clay caught the sad, almost terrified look in her enormous and expressive eyes.

"I'm fine, Daddy." Jolene occupied herself with getting Clay's utensils before settling herself in a chair by his bed with her own breakfast on the tray table before her.

"Bullshit. That's the most you've called me 'Daddy' in a conversation since you were seventeen. What's bothering you, little girl?" Clay set is coffee mug down on his table next to his nearly forgotten breakfast, a pleasant, but otherwise unexpected treat. "Holy shit! I'm dying, right?"

"No, you're not dying." Jolene couldn't help but giggle. "This is a one-off treat, Dad, so don't get used to it." She said, indicating his breakfast.

"Something's still bothering you, Jolene. What is it?"

Jolene shrugged her shoulders as she set her own napkin on her lap. "It just feels—" She started, but stopped herself. "Dad, why does anything have to be wrong?"

"First of all, you come strolling in here with an artery-clogging breakfast—my taste buds are doing back flips right now, by the way—and second, you look like shit." Clay replied, earning him a death glare from his daughter. "Either something's wrong or you're trying to soften a blow. Which is it?"

Jolene sat with her eyes downcast and jaw clenched as her fingers absently toyed with her wedding ring set. Suddenly looking into her father's piercing blue eyes, Clay could see that hers were moist and she was on the verge of tears.

Jolene cleared her throat, sucking back the urge to cry. "It's just that everything feels—different, that's all. It just feels like after today, nothing will ever be the same again. I just wanted us to have breakfast one more time like we used to when I was small in case everything goes to shit."

Clay shook his head slightly as he reached out for his daughter with his good hand. Getting up, Jolene quickly moved his tray to her chair and climbed onto the bed and snuggled up against him.

"Baby girl, your old man has a handle on shit. You just need to hold on tight until it all blows over." Clay said and pressed a kiss against her hair.

Jolene nodded into her father's chest. "I know he does, but he wouldn't have to if it weren't for me."

"Jolene—"

"Dad, please, there's no way around it. I know about the ATF's file. My stubborn pride put me on their radar. I never should have left Charming. Doing so was a weak move and it only opened me up to people like Stahl. Without the Club backing me up, I was like a wolf cub separated from the pack, just an easy target for the jackals." Jolene pushed herself up into a sitting position. "No matter how much the shame of the whole Wendy situation hurt, I should have stayed and fought for Jax and the life we had. Instead, I was too damn proud thinking that it couldn't—that it shouldn't be happening to me. I let that crank whore win by letting her get into my head, by letting myself believe that Jax wanted her here."

"You don't really believe he wanted her here, do you?" Clay asked disbelievingly. The one thing his daughter did not lack was self-confidence or the goods to back it up.

Jolene shook her head. "Honestly, I try not to think about it because we promised each other a clean slate, but yeah. At the time, I believed that's exactly what he wanted."

"What about now, Jolene? You still believe that?"

Jolene looked into her father's eyes for a long time. "Like I said, Dad, I try not to think about it."

Clay shook his head regretfully, hating himself for the part he had played in all this. If anyone was to blame for pushing his daughter away and into the ATF's sights, it wasn't Jolene or Jax or even Wendy. He was the only one to blame. Even though SAMCRO was so close to righting the wrongs that had plagued them for so long, Clay could not rest easy until he fessed up to his participation in the chain of events about to culminate in a clusterfuck.

"Baby girl," Clay started, longing for a fifth of bourbon. "The only thing Jax ever wanted was you. After the shooting, Jax was guilt-ridden and I tried to exploit that because I had almost lost you myself. Somewhere along the line, he came to his senses and realized that he couldn't live without you and he wasn't gonna let you go." He stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the tension. "If he couldn't break it off, I knew you could if confronted with the cheap pussy he'd been tapping in order to get shit straight in his head."

Jolene felt the heat drain out of her face and into her hands, leaving her fingers numb and tingly. "What are you saying, Dad?"

Clay's deep blue eyes focused on the form of his trembling daughter. "What I'm saying, baby girl, is that _I _was responsible for bringing that gash to Charming. She showed up at the Clubhouse that day because I called and left a message that Jax wanted her in Charming and to pack her shit and get here as fast as she could."

"_What_?" Jolene recoiled, her hand flying to her still-flat tummy as a wave of nausea assaulted her. "Why would you do that to me? To us?"

"Because I loved you, and sometimes parents do really shitty things out of love and fear." Clay rubbed his forehead wearily. "All I cared about was your safety and it was easier to convince myself that all you had with Jax was a teenage infatuation that had gone on for far too long, instead of the deep and abiding love that the two of you had for each other. The end justified the means if it meant that you would be safe."

"But I wasn't safe, Dad!" Jolene said angrily.

"That's right. You weren't. Because of me. _I _put you in the position of a cub all on its own, having to fend for yourself and Abel, and yet, despite that, you managed to survive without your family holding you up. I guess I can take a measure of pride that we all had a part in raising you, making you strong enough to handle your shit."

Jolene rested her head in her hands. Finally looking up at her father she said, "Why? Why tell me now, especially when Jax is out there risking his life in order to clean up this mess?"

"Because I can't let you think that your old man _ever_ wanted that gash over you. You are his life, Jolene, but I was too stupid to see that. I don't want her overshadowing what you and your old man have. You need to let that shit go, baby girl, and maybe, someday, you'll be able to forgive me for all the sorrow I caused."

Looking at her father's face full of regret and remorse, Jolene realized that it took a lot for him to confess that he had made a mistake. Clarence Morrow was not a man known for apologizing for the shit he did, right or wrong. Even though she was angry and hurt finding out about his role in her break up with Jax, she had recognized her own failings and had admitted as much only moments ago.

"Dad, you didn't have to tell me, but in a sad and twisted way I'm glad you did. If I can forgive myself for not sticking by Jax back then, I can forgive you, too. It won't change my feelings for him because I can't possibly love him anymore than I do right now, but knowing that Jax never wanted that POS means a lot." Jolene swiped away at her tears. "Ever since you came into my life, you and Uncle Elvis have always done your best to love and protect me. Being away from my family for so long taught me how precious every single moment with them is and I'm not gonna waste our time together being mad at you, no matter how misguided your intentions were." Reaching out to wrap her arms around her father, Jolene whispered in his ear. "I love you, Daddy. I always have, and I always will."

* * *

According to the information forwarded to Juice by McGee, a member of the First 9 and President of the Belfast charter, the Irish had two safe houses in NorCal. Both were frequently used by Luke Moran and, occasionally, Jimmy O when he was states side. As soon as Juice had pinpointed the exact locations, Jax had dispatched Tig and Happy to Visalia and Kozik and Chibs to Galt.

It was still morning when Jax got word from Tig that there had been movement in Visalia. They had spotted Luke at the safe house, but there was no sign of Jimmy and Luke appeared to be alone. Giving Tig and Happy the word to make contact, Jax had also given the Brothers Grim the go ahead to start working Moran over until he got there. As long as they remembered to get whatever he said on video, Jax really had no need or desire to be there while the fun and games ensued. Leaving Opie and Bobby at the Clubhouse to continue hammering out the rest of their plans, Jax headed to Visalia to pay a certain fat Irish fuck a visit.

After the patching out of Kyle Hobart, Jax swore to himself that if never smelled burning flesh ever again, it would still be too soon for him. Apparently, neither Tig nor Happy got to read that memo as that seemed to be their go-to method of extracting information from Moran. The stench of overcooked human meat hit Jax like a slap to the face as soon as he stepped foot inside the house. As Tig led him down the stairs into the basement of the one-story ranch-style house, Jax had to cover his nose with the sleeve of his plaid shirt.

"Jesus Christ!" Jax practically snarled at Tig. "Is he still alive?"

"Yeah. Sure." Tig responded quickly, but then shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe just barely."

Jax shook his head as he glared at Tig.

"Don't sweat, Pres," Happy called out from the chair he was casually sitting in, his feet crossed at his booted ankles as they rested on the edge of an old washing machine. "We got it all on tape." He said as he tossed Jax the small video camera while taking a drag from his cigarette.

As Jax caught the camera, he looked at the hunk of charred raw meat that used to be Luke Moran as he hung from the ceiling by his bound wrists. He was a whimpering and bloody mess as he drooled incoherently into his chest. Turning away from Moran, Jax pulled a smoke out of the breast pocket of his shirt, lighting up mostly to make the stench burning his nose at least somewhat tolerable. Switching on the camera, Jax watched the almost fifteen minute tape in which Luke Moran atoned for all his sins, coming clean about the skimming and their plan to replace SAMCRO with the ROC for a hefty cash vig, all of which was made possible by the murder of RIRA soldier Michael McKeavey, which he committed with his bare hands as he obeyed a direct order from James O'Phelan to make it as brutal as possible.

It was clear from the tape that by the time the confession was made, Moran had suffered quite a beating by—Jax was 100% positive—his SAA. After all, Tig was more the face-to-face, hand-to-hand-type of interrogator. It was obvious that Moran had been fucked over thoroughly, but nothing compared to the lump of dying flesh suspended at least two feet off the ground now. Apparently, after his confession, the camera was switched off and the master of all that was painful and torturous took over. Jax wasn't an innocent man. He had done his duty on behalf of the Club and had dispatched his fair share of rival MC members, gangbangers, and rats. But confronted by their handy work, Jax was suddenly very grateful that both Tig and Happy were on his side.

Hearing the Irishman gurgle and hiss, Jax realized Luke had lifted his battered head and was looking straight at him with the one eye still left. Handing the camera to Tig, Jax reached into the holster under his shirt and pulled out his Glock before taking a step towards Luke. Moran continued hissing and gurgling in his effort to speak and after about a minute or so, Jax was finally able to figure out what he was saying. Grabbing the silencer in the front pocket of his jeans, Jax screwed it into the muzzle of his gun with his gloved hand.

_Please kill me_.

"There's no need to beg, Luke." Jax drawled, his nostrils flared with a mixture of hatred and disgust. "I told you, the next time you saw me would be your last."

With the Glock pointed at dead center of his chest, Jax pulled the trigger, piercing Luke Moran's heart. He was dead before Jax dropped his hand to his side.

Casually unscrewing the silencer, Jax shoved it back into his pocket and his gun back into his holster. Pulling a thick, white envelope stuffed with cash from his back pocket, Jax turned and slammed it into Tig's chest, taking the camera back with his other.

"For Bachman." He said before climbing up the stairs and heading back to Charming.

* * *

It was almost two a.m. and Jimmy O was getting impatient. His second-in-command and—more importantly—his money man was late.

_Hours late_.

It pissed Jimmy off that instead of preparing for his long trip back to Belfast, he had spent the better part of the day and most of the evening fielding calls from Victor Putlova, all the while trying to locate Luke. Not only was Luke supposed to meet him at the marina in Oakland where they stored their cabin cruiser by midnight, but he had never made the drop to the Russians earlier in the day.

Jimmy O paced the deck of his boat impatiently as the stiff breeze coming off of the water at the Alice Street Marina blew against his lightweight black trench coat. He shivered a little, grateful that he had kept the coat stored away on board. Despite the fact that it was mid-summer, the temperature on the docks was usually a good 20 degrees colder than anywhere else in Cali, especially at night.

It would take at least seven hours to travel by boat to Vancouver. Jimmy preferred travelling during the cover of night and because of the excellent radar tracking system they had on board, there was no chance of them getting lost or caught by the Coast Guard. It was important that they arrive in Vancouver no later than mid-morning in order to make their first flight. It would take about two days of travelling on several crisscrossing flights before Jimmy would safely arrive in Belfast.

It wasn't like Luke to be late and Jimmy couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong. Luke did not eat, sleep, or shit without Jimmy knowing about it and he always answered his mobile. Jimmy was starting to regret his decision to send Luke back to NorCal alone with the money they had received from Putlova. The Russian had been a gracious host, insisting that Jimmy stay in Oregon to celebrate their new partnership until he was due to head back to Belfast. Luke had grumbled about not being able to partake of their host's hospitality for more than one night, but Jimmy needed him to take care of business first.

Leaning against the railing, Jimmy lit a smoke and took a deep drag, refusing to entertain the thought that Luke had taken off with his $2.5 million. He'd be better off dead, Jimmy O reasoned, because if he or—God forbid—Putlova ever got a hold of him, that's exactly how he'd end up. And it wouldn't be quick and painless either.

At least, not as quick and painless as Jimmy had initially planned on disposing of Luke. Despite all of Jimmy's promises, he had no intention of sharing the monies they had extorted—and would continue to extort—with Luke. Luke Moran was simply a tool, a workhorse to be used and road hard until it was no longer of any use. He basically kept Luke around to do all of the leg work of running the shipping and exporting of the merch, collecting the payments, skimming their share and storing the funds until they could be transferred to a safe offshore account.

Jimmy thought about the two duffel bags last seen in Luke's possession. $2.5 million was a lot of cash and, falling back on his alter boy days, Jimmy said a quick prayer for Luke to show his fat face and soon before he himself ended up on Victor Putlova's hit list. The Russian was foaming at the mouth, accusing Jimmy of stealing his money and his guns.

Throwing his cigarette overboard, Jimmy O walked towards the stern of the boat as he heard footsteps on the dock.

* * *

Opie thought he was crazy coming to Oakland by himself, but his brothers had risked enough already, with miles still left to go. Earlier in the day, with information provided by Luke, Opie and Bobby had taken on the task of making the execution of James O'Phelan as easy as pushing a button and now all Jax had to do was follow through. Even though Jimmy O had jeopardized the entire Club's livelihood, putting its survival at stake, closing this chapter on SAMCRO's history was a much more personal matter for Jax.

Jax pulled up the hoodie of the sweatshirt he was wearing, the breeze coming off the water sending a chill up his spine as he walked towards the marina. Thinking of his old lady at a time like this was not where he needed his head to be, but Jax couldn't deny that she was the driving force behind his need for vengeance. Jolene would hate knowing that. Thoughts of what he had done earlier, what he was about to do, and what he would end up doing before all of this was over gave him pause. After all, bat-swinging incidents aside, Jolene didn't have an evil bone in her body and hated to see anyone suffer. That empathy was just one of the reasons she made the perfect old lady for him. Jolene brought balance into his life of blood and mayhem.

_Jolene makes me human_.

As Jax descended the wooden set of stairs leading to the dock, he suddenly crouched down as he saw his target. Even from this distance, Jax could tell that Jimmy O was pacing nervously back and forth on his cabin cruiser. Jax grimaced to himself as he wondered what had the Irishman more worried, the fact that his second-in-command was MIA or that he was missing and so were the two duffel bags full of money.

That had been an unexpected find. Jax had just made it back to Charming after paying Luke a farewell visit when Tig called on his prepay. He and Happy had made an interesting discovery as they entertained themselves ransacking the safe house while Bachman worked his magic in the basement. Although Tig couldn't say for sure, he estimated that there was a good chance there was more than $1 million in the two duffel bags. In those bags, Tig also found the paperwork and keys to a container at the Oakland shipyard holding what was probably the Sons' last shipment, which Jimmy O had refused to turnover.

Deciding that he wanted the last thing that Jimmy O knew for certain was who had killed him, Jax pulled the TEC-9 he held in his back waistband as he stood up straight and headed for the slip that housed Jimmy's boat.

* * *

"It's about bloody time, you fat piece o' shit!" Jimmy started berating the dearly departed Luke Moran before he had a chance to register his error.

Nearly shitting himself, Jimmy O saw the tall, lean figure heading his way dressed in black plainclothes from head to toe. Even before the man pulled his hood back, Jimmy O knew he was about to meet his maker if he didn't light a fire under his own ass before Jax Teller made his move.

Running to the cockpit, Jimmy quickly started the boat's motor. The high powered engine quickly roared to life and, with a debonair wave of his hand, Jimmy pulled out of the slip to head out for the open sea. Distracted by his immense relief at having made a quick getaway, Jimmy barely heard the pops that signaled automatic gunfire until he felt several bullets hitting the boat as others whizzed by and splashed into the water.

The farther he got away from the docks, the more Jimmy started to feel safe enough to put the boat on autopilot. Walking to the stern, Jimmy laughed whole-heartedly as Jax took several more shots at him.

"That's the luck o' the Irish for ya, boyo!" Jimmy called out as he tossed off another wave.

Suddenly realizing that Luke was more than likely dead, probably tortured for information on his whereabouts, Jimmy angrily slammed his hand on the side of the boat. He was making it out of NorCal with his life, but with only the clothes on his back as well as he realized that he was making his getaway without his money.

Without that money, he was as good as dead. With Luke never making the drop-off to the Russians, he couldn't count on Putlova for protection. And if the Council had caught wind of any of his schemes against them, that was protection he would need as he may never be able to set foot in Belfast again.

Picking up the pair of binoculars that were laying on a seat, Jimmy wanted to take one last look at the Acting President of SAMCRO.

_At least I had the last laugh on Teller, that fuckin' son of a bitch_.

Cutting the engine so that he could focus on the bastard that destroyed his plans, Jimmy saw Jax Teller as he it finally dawned on him that Jimmy had escaped. Tucking his TEC-9 back into his waistband, Jimmy O saw Jax reach into the front pocket of his hoodie. The small black object he held in his hand looked familiar to Jimmy, but he couldn't place it at first. It wasn't until Jax waved good-bye at him before pulling out the antenna that Jimmy realized what it was.

Flinging aside the binoculars, Jimmy desperately tried climb onto the bow in order to leap out of the boat. He would have made it too had it not been for the lack of traction provided by his $500 pair of Bruno Magli shoes.

**BOOM!**

The explosion lit the night sky for miles around as pieces of James Patrick O'Phelan's body were scattered all over the bay.


	18. Blown Away

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

"Get some fucking dredgers here! NOW!" Stahl bellowed at the red-faced dockmaster.

Walt Ramsay, the lifelong sailor and dockmaster of the Alice Street Marina, was used to dealing with difficult women. Hell, he had been married and divorced four times, but this bitch was a trip. Red from working and playing for so many years outdoors, Walt wasn't intimidated at all by the tall and thin ATF agent with the crazy eyes.

Walt adjusted his skipper's hat and attempted to reason with the unreasonable. "Ma'am, we're a small public marina and we do not have the resources for what you're asking. Besides, the explosion happened far from our docks, in the open water and that's Coast Guard territory. You want a dredger, _you_ talk to them because I don't get paid enough for this shit."

The Alice Street Marina in Oakland was in utter chaos. Despite the fact that all public access areas were barricaded with official ATF crime scene tape, the two dozen ATF agents on site, with the aid of the local police department, struggled in vain to keep the morbidly curious back. With unruly reporters, marina workers and passers-by generally rubbernecking and causing trouble, most of law enforcement's manpower was going towards crowd control.

Word of the explosion in the harbor during the night was the lead story on every early morning news program in the Bay Area and beyond and the vultures were circling. As several more TV vans pulled into the marina's parking lot, Walt saw that the federal agent, who was currently ripping him a new one, was about to lose her shit. The last thing he wanted or needed was the experience of being torn to shreds on the local news for something that was beyond his control.

"Look, lady—" Exasperated, Walt started.

"That's _Special Agent Stahl_, asshole!" Stahl spat out.

"Hey, I don't give a shit who you are! There ain't squat I can do for you, lady. I can't even get into my own damn office because _your_ people have barred me from entering." Walt argued.

"That's because _your_ security cameras were tampered with. All the fucking cameras from the parking lot, to the docks, to the goddamn bathroom and beyond were set on a continuous loop. There's not a damn thing on those tapes that can help this investigation. Considering that we have nothing else to go on, I would expect more cooperation from the only suspect we have at the moment, don't you agree?" Stahl exploded.

"Suspect my ass! And you're fuckin' crazy!" Walt was indignant, but took a deep breath to calm down. "Listen, before your people kicked my ass out of my own office, I went over the slip manifests. All the boats are either present or accounted for, expect for _The Irish Lass_ registered to a Timothy O'Dell. Here, this is what he looks like." The dockmaster double-tapped on his electronic tablet and displayed a black-and-white photo of a trim and debonair Jimmy O'Phelan. "This is surveillance footage taken yesterday afternoon _before_ the cameras were tampered with."

While Agent Estevez stood still and stoic, Stahl stopped pacing back and forth to look at the picture.

"Son of a bitch!" She ground out through gritted teeth. "What do you know about this _Timothy O'Dell_?"

Walt shrugged his shoulders. "Not much, except that his cabin cruiser has occupied Slip 6 for the past two months and that his rent was paid up through the end of the year in cash. But there is nothing that indicates that it was this guy's boat that blew up in the harbor last night."

"Yeah, right." Stahl said sarcastically as she ran an agitated hand through her hair. "That's why we need the FUCKING DREDGERS!"

"Can't help you." Walt shrugged his shoulders and walked back to his command station hoping that he would finally be let in.

It was almost ten o'clock in the morning and Stahl had been on the scene of the explosion since at least three a.m. Never making it to bed last night, she had been awake for almost 30 consecutive hours with the aid of coffee and energy drinks, but was now in desperate need of a good meal and a few hours sleep.

_My fucking case is gone. Jimmy O was my tie in to the Real IRA and Luke Moran is either dead or in the wind_, Stahl rubbed her forehead angrily_. All I have left is a pathetic junkie rat, who has only given me shit Intel for months. If Samuelson has his way, I'll be in a field office in Juneau by the end of the week and it's all his fault for pulling my surveillance team from the marina two weeks ago._

Stahl's phone went off. As if the man could read her mind, she saw her supervisor's number flash across her phone's screen and fought the urge to hurl it into the harbor. Instead, Stahl ignored his call, letting it go to voice-mail for the third this morning as she felt the exhaustion finally flooding her bones and taking over.

Stahl motioned to Estevez impatiently. "I can't take this shit any more. You're in command. Try to keep the journalist assholes out of the way, do as much of a sweep as you can for witnesses, and report back to me in six hours. I'm off the grid until then. I'm going home to grab some sleep."

"What do I tell Samuelson?"

"Tell him I haven't slept in over 24 hours and that I will call him when I have something to report." She replied brusquely as headed towards the parking lot.

* * *

June Stahl lived alone in a small two-bedroom house in a development on the outskirts of Stockton. Catering mostly to young professionals and families where both parents worked, it was not surprising to find the streets deserted at this time of day, despite it being the middle of summer.

Stahl pulled up to the modest house that she had purchased outright several years ago, using money from a settlement she had made with her foster parents' insurance company after they died in a house fire. Parking her car in the driveway, she let herself in through the front door, nearly tripping over the pile of mail that had been shoved through the mail slot.

"Shit." Stahl grumbled as she threw her handbag and keys on the small table by the front door. All she wanted was to grab something to eat and then sink into her bed. She was just about to head to the kitchen when she noticed the thick envelope lying in the pile of what was mostly junk mail and mail order catalogs.

Picking up the envelope, Stahl kicked off her sensible shoes with the thick, square heels as she walked into her living room. Although her home was small and compact, it was rather austere, offering only a simple leather couch and armchair, a coffee table, several floor lamps, and a small liquor cabinet that stood behind the sofa.

Dropping the mail on the coffee table, Stahl stripped off her suit jacket and flung it across the back of the couch, leaving her side holster on as she headed to the liquor cabinet. Grabbing a glass, June poured herself four fingers of 12-year old Scotch and knocked back half of the liquor before returning to the couch, placing her glass and the decanter of Scotch on the coffee table in front of her. Crossing her legs, she grabbed the thick envelope to examine it.

The first thing she noted was that it had not come through the U.S. Postal Service. The only identifying information was "For Agent June Stahl" scrawled across the face of the gray envelope in black marker. Flipping it over, Stahl felt the pit of her stomach clench into an uneasy knot. She turned the envelope over and over again in her hands before finally deciding to open it.

Nearly ripping apart the envelope, Stahl pulled out a dark brown file about two inches thick. Turning it face up, her eyes widened as she read the label:

**Investigative Report on** **Agent June Stahl**

An uncontrollable shudder ran through her body as she realized what she was looking at.

"Motherfucking whore!" The growl that escaped her lips was almost guttural and feral, like a wild animal.

With her hand shaking uncontrollably, Stahl grabbed her drink from the coffee table and drained the glass of its contents before flipping open the file. Stapled to the inside of the folder was a photo of her taken during ATF training school. Looking at herself almost 15 years ago was almost like looking at a stranger. The June Stahl in the photo had no lines on her face or stray gray hairs at her hairline. If it weren't for the eyes, Stahl would hardly recognize herself at all.

Stahl turned over the first page and was unprepared for what she saw even though she had a good idea where her day was going. There, staring back at her, was a picture of 8 year old Claire Daniels, her long blond hair fashioned into a single ponytail and her cold, vacant eyes staring back at her unseeingly. This was the last photo June could remember taking as Claire. Soon after, her mother had abandoned her and young Claire went to live with her aunt and uncle. They had rechristened her June Stahl, the name of their daughter who had died at birth the same year Claire was born.

As Stahl turned page after page of reports and documentation, the past she had struggled so hard to keep buried came flooding back. It all played over her mind's eye like she was watching home movies of someone else's life—horrible home movies. Her baby brother's crumpled and dead body, after she squeezed him to her chest so hard that he had stopped squirming, lying in his crib, his face blue and his neck twisted at an odd angle. Her mother's wild sobs as she cradled Henry in her arms. Her father so grief-stricken he abandoned his wife and remaining child. And her mother, who refused to believe that it had been more than just an accident, but who after a while grew resentful of her own daughter and eventually abandoned her too.

Coming across a series of photos and articles, Stahl looked at the pictures of her adopted parents' home, which had burned to the ground two weeks after her high school graduation. The Fire Marshal in that Godforsaken town had ruled the deaths as "accidental," blaming faulty wiring on an ancient boiler for the explosion. She focused on a grainy picture of her at their funeral as one of her foster parents' neighbors tried comforting her, even though June had yet to shed a single tear in grief.

Stahl smiled as she remembered using the gold Mount Blanc pen they had given her for graduation—instead of the car she had been hoping for—to make out the deposit slip for the check she received from the insurance company.

"Maybe y'all still be alive had you brought me a car instead." Stahl said, the East Texas twang she tried so hard conceal thick in her voice.

Not really relishing the forced trip down memory lane, it was the analysis of the information complied in the file contained in the Final Report that sent her over the edge.

The unnamed private investigator had taken all of the information he had gathered over the period of one year for a professional analysis by a forensic psychiatrist who had worked as an FBI profiler before retiring. The Final Report, written by someone referred to only as Dr. B, was based on the information contained in the original files and transcripts of personal interviews conducted by the P.I. Dr. B had concluded that June Stahl, a/k/a Claire Daniels was a sociopath and unfit to serve in her capacity as an officer of the law.

According to what information he had available to him, there was a high probability that she was highly intelligent, but suffered from a narcissistic personality disorder. Although quite capable of being charming and personable, for the most part, she functioned without empathy for others and showed no remorse for her actions. As someone in a position of power, it was possible that she was used to abusing her authority and if she hadn't already killed again, she would. In Dr. B's opinion, June Stahl was unfit to serve in a public capacity and should be stripped of her badge before she did others or herself any harm.

Suddenly flinging the file so that the papers scattered around the living room, Stahl went on a rampage. Screaming and cursing at the top of her lungs, she overturned tables and furniture, breaking lamps, and smashing the Waterford decanter that had belonged to her great-grandmother against the wall. Far worse than the fit of rage she had suffered at the station house the day of Jolene's detainment, Stahl completely destroyed her living room.

Shuddering with deep breaths, Stahl literally grabbed her hair by the roots and pulled hard. Pain had always been the only thing that could bring her back to herself when she lost control. Barely pulling herself together, Stahl paced the length of the shattered room talking out loud to herself, the heady aroma of the shattered bottle of Scotch and her own pungent body odor heavily scenting the room.

"THAT FUCKING CUNT! She is going to pay for this IN BLOOD!" Stahl raged. "That cheap SAMCRO biker whore made good on her threat, so now it's time for me to make good on mine. Jolene-fucking-Teller is DEAD!"

Agitated, Stahl continued pacing furiously around the living room, knocking down anything within arm's reach. "Those stupid Irish pricks were supposed make sure she died! They had the dirty Intel on that gash and all they had to do was convince her old man to slit her goddamned throat!"

Stahl paused, running her hand through her tangled hair. "That Teller asshole's so pussy-whipped, he must have bargained a way out with his Club for his bitch! Now it's up to ME to make sure they're both DEAD!"

Breathing hard and uneven, Stahl stood still in the middle of her destroyed living room as she tried to consider her best options. "How? How do I make that happen?" She asked herself in a decidedly calmer voice. "THINK, goddammit!" She pounded a fist against her forehead. As her gaze drifted around the room, her already contorted face became even more so as she realized that the blinds on the large picture window facing the street had been drawn.

_I never close those blinds._

Lack of sleep. An almost-full glass of liquor on an empty stomach. The shock of confronting her past in black and white. All of it combined worked against Stahl, making her mind sluggish and cutting into her reaction time significantly. Staring at the drawn blinds, she was slowly coming to the realization that she wasn't alone when suddenly, the scent of leather and cigarettes filled her nostrils. A screech tore from her throat as Stahl was grabbed from behind, her arms pinned to her sides as her back was pressed up against a hard and muscled chest.

"Who the fuck are you?" Stahl screamed, nearly hysterical as she desperately tried to twist away. Taking a deep breath to calm herself down was almost impossible as she could barely expand her lungs in the powerful grip. "Do you have any idea who you are fucking with? I am a FEDERAL AGENT! Let me go, you piece of filthy shit!"

She could feel the grumble that started deep within her captor's chest before it escaped his lips as soft laughter. "Sorry, but no can do." The near-growl close to her ear finally penetrated through Stahl's terrified mind.

_Fucking Jax Teller!_

"It's just you and me, _June._" Stahl could hear the smirk in his voice.

Swallowing hard enough for Jax to hear, Stahl tried to gather her quickly fleeting composure. "Why are you in my house? What do you want?"

Jax shook his head slightly, his nostrils flared. It had taken every ounce of self-control in his possession to stay hidden in the kitchen. His patience was waning thin as Stahl took her time rifling through the file he had personally delivered before losing her shit and destroying her home.

Hearing her keen and wail like a wounded and cornered animal had momentarily brought Jax back to his senses. _The Sons of Anarchy do not hurt women_. It was a mantra Jax had heard his father JT say often. Innocents, women, and children did not get hurt on their watch. _Ever_.

It took hearing her plans for him and Jolene straight from her lips to pacify his conscience. It had to be done. June Stahl or Claire-fucking-Daniels—whoever the fuck she was—had felt no such misgivings when it came to removing obstacles from her path. It had taken a long night re-reading her dossier as he waited for her to come home to reach the conclusion that Stahl was no innocent. Her little brother and foster parents had paid the price. He'd be damned if he was going to let his old lady go down like that.

"Your father should have put you down like a rabid mongrel for what you did to your brother. You disgust me on so many levels and that's saying a lot coming from a man like me, a man with enough blood on his hands to last ten life times." Jax growled. "Difference is, I do what I do _for_ my family. There's only one way this is going to end for you and I know you know what way I'm talking about because you did your homework. _No one_ that goes after my old lady gets out alive."

"So, you're going to add killing a federal agent to your resume? All for what, _love_? Is she really worth all that? Worth your freedom and maybe your life?" Stahl laughed bitterly.

Tightening his grip around the agent securely with his left arm, Jax moved his gloved right hand to the holster on the waistband of her slacks and pulled out Stahl's service weapon. Stahl started squirming frantically once again as Jax shoved the barrel of the gun barrel up against her right temple.

"I don't know what you're talking about, June. I don't kill women," Jax started calmly, as he cocked the gun, saying the last words June Stahl would ever hear. "But if I did, I'd tell ya that yeah, she is so worth it. I'd tell ya that I'm doing this for my old lady, my children, and my Club."

And without a second thought, he pulled the trigger.

* * *

Agent Rick Samuelson was a 30-year veteran of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. For the last eight of those years, it had been his great misfortune, as he often told his wife, to be the Director of the Stockton Division, sacrificing his full head of hair and good looks in the process. He had seen his fair share of bloodshed and had lost some really excellent agents in the field. During those times, he always felt a great deal of sorrow. It was an extremely rare instance when he would have a totally opposite reaction.

Today was one of those days.

Standing over the remains of Agent June Stahl, Samuelson swore under his breath loud enough for the man standing next to him to hear. "What a colossal fuck up! Couldn't she at least have the decency to go out into the desert to eat her gun, some where we wouldn't stumble across her body? No, because after everything I did for her, even in death June Stahl is working my last nerve. This is how she pays me back, by bending me over and FUCKING ME UP MY ASS!"

Looking down at Stahl's body as two personnel from the Medical Examiner's office covered her with a thin tarp, Deputy Chief David Hale recoiled, not at the sight of blood, but at Samuelson's tirade. Except for the massive head wound that had shattered her head, Stahl had looked relatively normal, almost like she was enjoying a peaceful slumber stretched out on the area rug of her obliterated living room.

The Director stroked his grizzled chin which was in desperate need of a shave. "Jesus, look at this place. She frickin' destroyed it, just like your interrogation room. How come everything's always so clear in hindsight? She was obviously a nut case from the word go. She was so damn good at her job that nobody recognized just how fuckin' crazy she was. She was a good agent, though—brutal, efficient, and ruthless. I'm retiring in a couple of years and the bitch was bucking for my job. I might have recommended her too had she closed the deal on the SOA-RIRA NorCal gun connection. But she knew. She knew she would never get the chance once this shit came out." Samuelson gestured at the documents that were strewn around the room and under her body.

Hale stooped down to pick up a photograph of what apparently was Stahl as a child. "Is it really that bad?" Hale asked.

"Are you kidding me? Even if only half the shit I read is true, she was toast. June Stahl wasn't even her name." Samuelson revealed. "Fuck, who am I kidding? She took the easy way out. If anyone's toast, it'll probably be me for having a baby-killing sociopath on the payroll." At Hale's puzzled look, the Director proceeded to detail the horrible things people had suspected her of doing, starting at 5 when she twisted an 8-week old kitten in half, breaking its spine.

As Samuelson's revelations set in, Hale was hard pressed not to lose the contents of his stomach. The fact that this was the same woman he had aided in her efforts to trap Jolene Teller made him sicker than gazing at parts of her brain splattered on the expensive Italian leather couch.

"How the hell did she slip through the cracks? This is the federal government we're talking about." Hale said angrily.

"That's a really good question, Deputy Chief." Samuelson agreed. "I don't have an answer. All I have are a shit load of more questions after reading the contents of a full dossier that was delivered to my office this morning. I don't know who pulled this shit together, but whoever it was, they sure had the resources and a major grudge against Stahl, I mean Daniels—fuck it. Whoever the hell she was, the reports I read suggest that her recruiters did a piss poor job conducting due diligence. Now I have Washington up my ass looking for a place to assign blame. First order of business was to bring the bitch in, but she never returned my calls. I thought she was probably neck deep in this explosion in the bay up in Oakland this morning. Little did I know that it's kinda hard to use a phone with a goddamn bullet in your head."

Gesturing to the documents and photos now being collected by several of the Stockton office's agents, Hale asked, "Any thoughts on who might be responsible for pulling this shit together?"

Samuelson shrugged his shoulders. "Take your pick. Like I said, she was a good agent, probably pissed off the wrong criminal enough to spend a significant amount of money and time digging into her past. What's so fucking embarrassing for the Bureau is that all this information was out there for them to find. Her career was over and, more than likely, she was heading to prison. She's better off dead."

Samuelson ran his hand over the shiny bald spot at the back of his head as he continued. "At the very least, Stahl would have done time for fraud. By the time I got the call to get over here, top brass was already discussing the logistics of reopening every case she worked on for a federal audit. Do you even realize how many pieces of scum can walk because of all the things she's done?" Looking down at the body, Samuelson sighed wearily. "Can we get her bagged and tagged sometime today, please?" He directed at the Medical Examiner's team. The Director turned back to face Hale. "Are you on duty?"

"No," Hale shook his head. "I was actually on my way to Oakland Airport to catch a flight to Seattle for a long weekend with my girlfriend. I only stopped by when I heard the news on the radio."

"That explains the casual wear." Samuelson replied as he eyed the lightweight blazer worn with a t-shirt and straight-legged jeans. "I hope you're not keeping your lady waiting."

"I am, actually. I missed my flight, but she's very understanding" Hale reached out to shake the man's outstretched hand. "If there's anything I can do for you when I return to Charming, don't hesitate to give me a call."

"Thanks. June spoke very highly of you, said you were very helpful with our ongoing case against the RIRA. After this, I don't know how much of that help was in vain, but we'll try to salvage as much as we can. With the Irish connection presumed dead and now June, it's not looking good."

Hale watched as the Medical Examiner and his staff loaded the body bag containing the remains of June Stahl onto a gurney before wheeling her outside. Following as Samuelson and his agents left, Hale exited the house. The sun had long since set, but the bright lights of several news cameras illuminated the roving reporters interviewing Stahl's neighbors about the tragedy.

Waving away an overzealous reporter who tried to stick a mike in his face, Hale growled. "No fucking comment."

As he headed towards his SUV, which was parked across the street, he heard the comment of one of June's neighbors, a small elderly white-haired woman who lived next door to the former agent. She was apparently quite hard of hearing as the reporter had to reiterate her question several times.

"It's so hard to believe, you know? Why, she seemed to be a sort of pleasant-type of a woman. Even though she was a little distant, I never would have pegged her for the type to kill herself."

The statement was said simply and without fanfare, but sounded off a cacophony of warning bells in Hale's head as he sat still in the driver's seat of his vehicle.

The old woman was right, but for all the wrong reasons. June was obviously as crazy as a shit-house rat, but she certainly wasn't the type to take the easy way out. Quite the opposite, actually. She would do what it took to protect her own hide.

Like having Jolene Teller marked for death.

_If that's the case, then it's entirely possible that June had some help in the execution of her exit._

Hale suddenly pulled his vehicle away from the curb and headed towards the highway. If he hurried, he would be able to make the next flight into Seattle.

Hale's mind had started putting pieces together and was running in a direction that was bound to lead nowhere good if he followed it to its only logical conclusion. Ultimately, regardless of the right or the wrong of it, the right person had ended up in a body bag tonight.

He could at least take some comfort in that.

* * *

Huff Kagen had a smile on his face that could probably be seen from space as he entered the Chapel. It was his first invitation to take a seat at the table during Church since arriving in Charming.

_An oversight on the part of the fuckin' National President_, he had thought, and an insult to him personally.

He had mentioned it to Little Paul the last time they had spoken, but his President advised him to go with the program. It was important that Huff didn't cause more waves than he had already by bringing his old lady, Jax Teller's ex, with him to Charming.

"_Learning the gun business is why you're there, so do your job as quickly as possible. Don't cause any problems, keep your old lady under control, and get your ass back to Tucson." Little Paul had said in a tone that brooked no argument._

As a favor to the mother charter, Huff and his prospects had been asked to handle several protection runs and, although it was grunt work, he was glad for it as his cut of the profits would go a long way in making his old lady happy. While on the runs, he got a call from one of the hang-arounds he had become friendly with, mainly just so that he would have eyes and ears in the Clubhouse during his absence.

Apparently, some serious shit had gone down and there was a lot of increased activity, so Huff wasn't surprised when one of the hang-arounds told him that he was wanted in the Chapel the minute he and his crew arrived on the lot.

Honestly, Huff really wasn't up to meeting with the Club right now. All he wanted was to bang his old lady and get some sleep, but Club business took precedence over his dick. Besides, Huff had a feeling that Teller was about to eat some crow and that was something he didn't want to miss out on.

_I bet that Mr. Too-Big-For-His-Britches is in over his head and needs my help_, Huff gloated. Now was his time to impress SAMCRO and take the young stud down a notch or two. Huff rubbed his face, remembering his aching and sore jaw thanks to Teller's right hook just before leaving on the protection run.

Huff had landed flat on his ass on the blacktop in the T-M parking lot as the younger man towered over him. "You know what that's for." It wasn't a question, but Jax glared at Huff until the older man had nodded. "Make sure you take care of that cargo." He said as he walked off.

Now, as he entered the Chapel, Huff's smirk started to fade as he warily eyed his brothers' faces as they sat around the Redwood table.

_What the fuck is going on? Somebody die?_

Jackson Teller sat at the head of the table, the gavel resting on its side as he leaned back in his chair smoking a cigarette. In front of him was a brown folder.

The Acting President pointed an index finger at him. For a moment, Huff thought he was looking at Clay Morrow, the anger evident upon the man's face, his shoulders set and tight, his cold blue eyes literally boring a hole through Huff.

"You. Sit." Jax ordered.

Huff suddenly wished he had stopped by the bar for a stiff drink before heading for the Chapel. For some reason, the unease he suddenly felt in the pit of stomach told him he was going to need it. Walking towards the empty chair at the opposite end of the table, he sat down gingerly.

"Is there a problem?" Huff asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

Jax blew a ring of smoke towards the ceiling. "Oh, you bet there's a problem." With his jaw set and his eyes still on Huff, Jax nodded towards his VP. "Ope?"

Opie picked up the ball. "We've got a fuckin' rat in the Clubhouse." He said coldly, the mild-mannered gentle giant nowhere to be seen.

_A rat? _Huff thought. _Oh shit!_

Suddenly, Huff busted out a smile. It just kept getting better and better. Teller had gotten the Club in the shit and now needed his help.

"That's a serious problem, brother. As the SAMTAZ VP, I'm more than willing to offer my services to the mother charter in cleaning up their mess."

Opie smirked. "You should be, since you're responsible for bringing that gash back to Charming."

_WTF?_

Huff looked nonplussed. "Opie, you lost me."

"Then let me help you find yourself, asshole." Jax thundered. "_Your_ old lady is the fuckin' rat!"

Huff suddenly felt the cold fingers of fear run down his spine. "Bullshit! That's not possible. " He blustered.

Reaching into the folder, Jax pulled out a report, crumpled it into a ball and threw it so that it landed in front of Huff. "Then what the fuck does that mean?"

The older man's hands trembled slightly as he unraveled the report. He noted that the report's header indicated that it was from the ATF's Stockton office. Written by Agent June Stahl, it detailed meetings with a Confidential Informant known as Wendy Case, formerly Wendy Teller, and the Intel she had managed to retrieve from her only source of information within the motorcycle club known as the Sons of Anarchy, the Vice President of the Tucson, Arizona charter, Douglas "Huff" Kagen.

"Your junkie whore has been mining you for information ever since you exercised the 'prison clause' while Jax was in Chino." Bobby said ominously. "No SAMCRO patch in their right mind would touch that skank with a dirty stick. And then you came along. After leaving Chino, Jax finally ran her ass out of Charming, only to have you bring her back to our fuckin' front door."

"Apparently, your sloppy seconds has been on the ATF's payroll since she and her _other_ prison clause boyfriend, some Nordic Aryan Brotherhood prick, got busted delivering 25-to-life worth of Meth to Oak-Town." Piney explained. "Once they figured out her connection to SAMCRO, the DEA flipped her over to the ATF. She's been rolling on us ever since by funneling information on the Club right to the Feds."

"Information," Juice cut in. "That she never would have had access to, not with Jax trying to divorce her ass two minutes after he drunk-married the bitch. Everything she gave the Feds, she got from you. Apparently, your dick-game wasn't enough, so you had to talk shit in order to impress her."

"I heard she gives really great head, but even I wasn't that desperate or that crazy to disrespect my brother by hitting that." Tig said grimly. "I sure hope it was worth your patch, man."

Huff could barely keep up with the conversation as he was bombarded with one angry comment after another from the men at the table, but he froze as the SAA's comment registered with his stunned brain. "My patch?" He asked stupidly.

"You really don't think that this is something we can just sweep under the rug, do you?" Jax said coldly.

Huff started babbling. "Look, I didn't know—"

"It's obvious you don't know shit! You thought you were jerking my chain, throwing my former pussy in my face, playing some stupid alpha male pissing game. It's not enough taking your life into your own hands by disrespecting my old lady practically in my face? You really think you won't be held accountable for your gash almost destroying this charter's livelihood, too? Had you not just been blowing smoke up your old lady's ass, we would all be facing life in prison. Now, we have to clean up your mess before we can get back to business." Jax said angrily and then nodded at Tig. The Sergeant-at-Arms stood up and walked over to Huff.

"Take off the cut." Tig said. "Now!"

"Jax," Huff looked at the SAMCRO AP pleadingly. "I've worn this cut for almost 22 years."

Jax exhaled, the blue smoke trailing into the air. "And you won't ever get to wear it again. Take. It. Off."

In a daze, Huff stood up and removed his cut, handing it to Tig.

"You know the drill," Opie started. "But I'll tell you anyway. You're out. You cut ties with all charters, meaning no communication whatsoever. Black out your tats, or we'll do it for you and we WON'T use ink. Remove all SOA patches, emblems, and tags from your ride. Once you walk out of this room, you're dead to us."

"And you stay dead," Happy added. "Or we can help you find a way to stay that way."

"Your shit's been packed and waiting for you with your ride." Tig pulled out a thick envelope. "Here's your cut from the protection runs. I don't know where you're going and I don't wanna know, but if you're smart, you won't end up in any state where there's a charter."

Huff nodded his head shakily. Stopping at the Chapel door, he asked without turning his head. "What's gonna happen to the bitch?"

"What do you think?" Jax replied coldly.

Huff nodded. "Good."

Huff walked out of the Chapel a broken man, looking every bit his age as he walked through the Main Room, passing his former SAMTAZ crew sitting at the bar, careful not make eye contact with anyone as he exited the Clubhouse.

Someone had already pulled his ride out of the line of parked bikes and had his saddle bags draped over the seat. He could see that the Reaper he had so proudly displayed on the gas tank had been peeled off. Adjusting his saddle bags, Huff climbed onto his ride.

Throwing his bike into gear, Huff pulled out of the lot, leaving the Sons of Anarchy and his whole life behind. As he did, Huff had one thought pass through his mind.

_She was so not worth it. Not one damn bit._

* * *

"You really handled that shit, man."

Jax looked up from his chair to see Tig standing in the doorway. "Thanks, bro."

Tig walked in, closing the door behind him. "Can we talk, brother?"

Jax eyed the man. Tig was not exactly known for his soft side. The man lived hard, rode hard and was no pussy. "What's up?"

Tig sat down in his chair on Jax's right, pulled out a joint and lit it. Taking a hit, he shook his head as he felt the rush and then passed it to Jax. "You didn't have much to say when we picked you up this morning."

"There wasn't much to say."

The operation had been very successful, thanks in most part to Tig. After taking care of Luke Moran in Visalia, Tig and Happy were reassigned to keeping a tail on Agent Stahl. Chief Unser, who was otherwise kept at arm's length by the ATF, was still useful in keeping an eye on Stahl while she was in the station house. As soon as he caught wind of any movement, he was to contact SAMCRO. The night before the Sons caught up with Jimmy O, Stahl was still working in her office, contemplating whether or not she should head home or find a place to crash in Charming when the call of an explosion in the Bay Area came in.

Making it to Stahl's house after taking care of Jimmy under the cover of night, it never occurred to Jax that he could be sitting on the house for hours until Stahl came home. But he had and by the time Stahl had shown up, it was late morning and walking out of her house a blood splattered mess without raising suspicion was not going to happen had it not been for Tig. It had been the SAA's idea to "borrow" an exterminator's van from Modesto in order to pick Jax up from Stahl's neighborhood under the radar. Dressed in a pair of gray overalls and a dark cap over his jeans and cut, Tig made his way into the house carrying a similar outfit for Jax to wear in order to slip out of Stahl's home without arousing curiosity.

"What you've done for your old lady, for the Club, I know it weighs heavy on ya. And I'm not saying that you can't handle your shit because you can and you did, but still." Tig grabbed the joint again and took another hit. "That's why I want to talk to you. It's about this last knot that needs to be tied off."

Jax nodded, realizing where the conversation was going. In fact, it had been pretty much all he had been thinking about since Huff had left the Clubhouse several hours ago.

"Bro, all you have to do is give me the order and I'll do this for you and I'll make sure it won't blow back on the Club. You're a smart guy, Jax, but when you need to, you can get fuckin' bloody. That's why you earned that," Tig pointed to the Men of Mayhem patch on Jax's cut. "But sometimes, it's not just about being smart. It's about killing shit and that's where I come in. That's my job. It's what I do. It's what I'm good at. I'm proud of the shit you did for the Club today, but this other shit is different. Yeah, she's a fuckin' rat, but she's still a broad and you love pussy way too much to go around killing it." He kidded, causing Jax to crack a smile, even though nowadays, he wouldn't fuck Wendy with somebody else's dick. "You've got nothing to prove, brother and this shit is too much weight for you to carry all on your own. Let me and Hap take care of this for you. If our business is to continue with the Irish, it has to be done. You know this."

Jax looked at his brother and nodded. "I know." He replied and then chuckled. "You never cease to fuckin' amaze me, Tigger, but I'm not so sure I can handle this kinder, gentler Tig Trager."

"Yeah, well, I kinda have that effect on people." Tig shrugged his shoulder with false modesty, in a golly-gee-whiz-kinda manner. "So what's it gonna be, Pres?"

Jax looked at his SAA. "Handle it, but make it quick and make it clean."

Tig smiled. "Consider it handled."

The two men stood up and gave each other the standard bro hug before Tig left the Chapel. Jax sat back in his chair and looked at the gavel lying on the table.

Clay was right. Wielding the gavel would probably be the hardest thing he would ever do. But at least now Jax knew he had the stones to do it.


	19. Happily Ever After?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

"Shit! Fuck! Shit! Shit! Fuck!" Wendy raged at herself as she tried to make it back to Charming without killing herself on the highway.

Huff returning from the road and finding his old lady not there to greet him was not good. It was getting late and how the fuck was she going to explain where she had been?

Wendy smacked herself on the forehead. "I can't believe I forgot he was coming back today!" She tried lighting a cigarette while steering as she ripped down the I-22, but her hand was shaking violently.

She was still fucked up from all the partying she had been doing all day and the odds of her making it back to the Clubhouse in one piece were stacked against her if she didn't slow down. Not only was she speeding, but she was weaving dangerously in and out of her lane.

Wendy had been so happy that her old man had taken off on some protection runs for the Club, she had almost been giddy with glee. Not only did it afford her the opportunity to spend some time with her honey Dahlmer, but it gave her the chance to get the stink of dirty old man biker off of her. The last couple of days had gotten out of hand, however, and she should have realized that something like this would happen. Wendy had pretty much been in a sex and crank-induced haze for the past few days and had not even bothered returning to the Clubhouse to keep up the pretense that she actually wanted to be there.

Instead, she had holed herself up with her boyfriend in his room at the motel under the Nords protection in Pope, just eating, tweaking and fuckin' for three straight days. Neither of them, or anyone else partying with them, had paid any attention to the TV when it was on, so Wendy had absolutely no clue that the news of the apparent suicide of a federal agent in Stockton impacted her at all. It was only when she checked her phone to see if she had any messages that the date registered.

Flinging off Dahlmer's heavy arm from her waist, Wendy had leapt out of bed, running and stumbling as she gathered her clothes, suddenly in a hot rush to get her ass back to the Clubhouse. Now, looking down at her rumpled blouse and food-stained jeans, she knew she looked like hell and probably smelled worse.

"Shit!" Wendy cursed as she pulled down the visor and looked at herself in the lighted mirror. "How the hell am I going to explain this?"

Leaving the motel without barely saying good-bye, Wendy had totally ignored Dahlmer when he suggested that she might want to jump into the shower first.

Pulling some make-up removal wipes from her handbag, Wendy frantically started wiping away at the clumps of mascara and greasy, caked on foundation as her mind tried to come up with a plausible excuse for her absence, but she was finding it hard to concentrate. It was nearly midnight and the bright headlights of the cars on the opposite side of the highway shone into her eyes, stunning her so that she barely avoided having an accident.

Suddenly, from what seemed to be out of nowhere, a car and a cargo van boxed Wendy in from the side and behind her Maxima.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me right now?" Wendy screeched. "Not now, you fuckin' stupid ATF bitch!"

Wearily, Wendy realized that there was nothing she could do as she was bullied off the highway and onto a deserted strip of road. With only the crescent moon illuminating the sky, it was literally pitch black when the three vehicles pulled to a stop.

Wendy struggled to get herself out of the seat belt, threw open the car door, and jumped out.

"Damn it, Stahl! I know I fucked up, but you pulling me off the road isn't going to help. I need to get back to the Clubhouse to Huff, so let's make this quick." In response, a bright light from a high-powered flashlight shone directly into Wendy's eyes. "Hey! You trying to blind me, asshole? Point that shit somewhere else!"

"How's 'bout I point _this_ straight up your ass instead?" A familiar male voice replied as Wendy heard the safety come off a weapon.

As the flashlight was pointed away from her, Wendy Case's eyes widened in shock as she recognized the crazy blue-eyed son of a bitch standing in front of her. She noticed he wasn't wearing his cut as the cargo van's sliding door opened behind him. With the interior light on, Wendy could see a large sheet of clear plastic sheeting covering the floor.

Hearing a second gun being cocked, Wendy looked back at the SAA with terrified eyes only to find him pointing the gun directly at her. "Looky, looky what we got here. My personal favorite animal to torture. A rat!"

Even in her half doped up state of mind, Wendy quickly realized that she was in seriously deep shit and tried to bargain her way out. "Please, you got it all wrong. Stahl was blackmailing me." She whined.

"No shit, Sherlock. Well, you won't have to worry about her any more." Tig replied.

Wendy continued babbling. "But, but you can't, you can't do this. Jax hates me, I know this, but he'd never be okay with hurting a woman."

"Ya think so? Maybe you should tell that to Stahl. Oops, I forgot. Ya can't 'cause Jax splattered her brains all over her living room hours ago for threatening his old lady and the Club. He sent us out here to clean up this loose end 'cause he couldn't be bothered to waste anymore time on you. Time he'd rather spend with his real old lady." The SAA said with a fierce grin.

"Yo, are you gonna kill this junkie whore or not? Shit, not only is she a faithless bitch, but she's a mouthy one, too." Happy stuck his head out of the van. "Let me finish her. I can always find a spot for another smiley tattoo."

"_I_ was Jax's old lady!" Wendy raged, tears pouring down her face as she stamped her foot.

"Stupid bitch, as long as Jolene walked the earth, you were never his old lady." Happy practically growled.

"And after all the shit you pulled, the smart thing to do would have been keeping your ass out of Charming." Tig aimed his gun. "Just be glad that my Pres is a gentlemen and he said not to torture you. In case you didn't know, I live for that kinda shit, but fortunately for you, Jax said we should make this quick. So, light's out, gash."

Just before the bullet passed through Wendy's brain, it finally dawned on her that she would never get her happily ever after.

* * *

"So, how long is this gonna take?" Tig asked the tall and slightly hunched-backed man who was silently examining the body lying on the floor of Piney's cabin.

Standing up, Bachman looked at the SAA. "I have to remove the silicone implants and the dental work, so I figure three hours, tops."

Happy, who was sitting on a chair across the room, laughed raucously, which sounded more like two boulders rubbing against each other. "I told you, Tigger. You owe me fifty bucks."

"Shit! I would have sworn those puppies were real." Tig groused as he dug up a fifty dollar bill and threw it at his brother. "I guess we'll let you get to it, Bachman. Anything else you need?"

"Some 80's music would be nice." The strange man replied. Happy rolled his eyes at Tig, who pulled out an iPod and stuck it into the docking station he had set up on Piney's kitchen table.

As the Eagles poured out through its small, but powerful speakers, the Cleaner nodded his head in appreciation. "Excellent."

As Tig and Happy headed towards the cabin's front door, Happy said, "I hope he doesn't leave a mess. Piney will shit a brick if he clogs up his pipes."

"Nah, Bachman's a legend for a reason. Besides, ain't nothing a good snake job won't fix." Tig replied. "We'll get one of the Prospects up here, see what they're made of."

"As they see what this bitch was made of? You're a sick fuck, Tig." Happy clapped him on the back.

"That's why you love me, brother." The two laughed as they headed to the cargo van to wait out the completion of the job.

* * *

Even though it was still dark out, Jolene couldn't help but feel like she was entering a ghost town as she pulled into the T-M lot. It was almost morning and a new day was about to break, but Jolene couldn't live with herself a minute longer without hearing from her old man.

Jumping out of her car, Jolene started for the Clubhouse, but was stopped by her reluctant escort, who had barely managed to trail behind his lead-footed charge even on his otherwise powerful bike as Jolene thundered through Charming.

"Jolene, with all due respect, maybe I should go in first, don't you think?" Half Sack said tentatively as he jumped in front of her. "Just to make sure things are okay inside."

Jolene, who just stopped short of bumping into him, crossed her arms. "I think I can manage walking into the Clubhouse all by myself, Kip. I'm sure everything's fine." She tried to edge around him, but he wasn't budging.

"If that's the case, why didn't you just wait at home for the Pres like he wanted you to?"

With an exasperated sigh, Jolene gave in. "Okay, okay." She waved a dainty hand. "Lead the way, MacDuff."

Following the strawberry blond, baby-faced patch into the Main Room of the Clubhouse, Jolene wasn't surprised at all to find it empty. No members, no hang-arounds, no one. Peeking over Kip's shoulder into the open doorway, Jolene could see that her old man wasn't in the Chapel either.

"Let's try his dorm." Jolene said, her heart literally jumping in her chest. It had been beating a steady, but accelerated staccato beat ever since her beloved Sasquatch had called to let her know that everything was fine, but that Jax would be spending the night at the Clubhouse.

She had really tried to respect Jax's wishes and just stay put at the house, but she couldn't escape the feeling that things were playing out like they had before. Jolene remembered all too well how Jax had decided not to return home after the Club had dealt with the Hobart situation. Now, with the weight of what he had taken upon himself for her and the Club, Jolene was afraid that maybe it was too much for him to handle without falling back into the same old pattern of behavior.

Jolene trusted her old man, but her fucking paranoia was doing a number on her.

_We squashed all that shit_, she reminded herself._ We're not running away from each other anymore, we're running towards each other._

But just in case his ass was flipping out on her, Jolene decided that it was best to nip this shit in the bud right now_._

Quickly coming up on Jax's dorm room door, Jolene was about to open it when Kip jumped in front of her yet again. "Why don't I get that for ya?"

_On the off chance that he's not alone in there, maybe I can still save him, as well as my top rocker._

Cracking the door open, Half Sack peeked inside and gave a silent sigh of relief as he saw the lone figure of his President occupying the bed. Flinging the door open so that Jolene could enter, Half Sack whispered, "I'm going back to the house to help Filthy Phil with Clay."

Jolene smiled. "And I suppose Neeta's pancakes wouldn't have anything to do with you abandoning your post."

The young man blushed and shoved his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. "Maybe just a little bit, but you're with your old man now. He'll take care of ya."

"Thanks for bringing me to him, Kip." Jolene smiled and squeezed his arm. "It was really sweet of you."

"No problem."

Jolene entered her old man's dorm and closed the door behind her softly. Watching Jax breathing deep and even as he was lying on his side, Jolene realized just how exhausted he must be. Quickly slipping out of her clothes, she approached the bed and shivered as she pulled back the thin blanket draped over him. Jolene smiled to herself. Sure enough, her old man was naked as the day he was born. Quietly slipping in beside him, Jolene cuddled up and contemplated going to sleep. Instead, she decided she couldn't wait a second more to find out where his head was at and started trailing feather-light kisses down his torso in order to wake him up.

Jax groaned as he felt parts of him coming to life. Cracking his eyes open, he smiled sexily as he saw his old lady, her beautiful midnight curls trailing over her shoulders and covering her breasts, her chin propped up in a dainty hand. "Morning," He said as he stretched to cup her face in his hand. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check up on you, baby. You didn't come home." She admonished as she placed tender little kisses on his face.

"You came by yourself?" Jax groaned as her hands stroked his chest.

"No, Kip brought me, but he left when he saw that you were alone. I don't think he would have let me in had there been some slag in bed with you."

"Good man. I guess letting him patch in wasn't such a bad idea after all." Jax laughed as his old lady grabbed the pillow his head was resting on and tried to smother him with it. Lightly wrestling her so that she had her arms pinned above her head, he smiled. "I'm just fooling, babe."

"You better be." Jolene sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I just had to see you. Opie called and said everything was over, but you that weren't coming home right away. Hearing that put me in a really weird place, baby."

Correctly interpreting Jolene's feelings, Jax said, "Babe, there's never going to be a repeat of what happened before. We have problems, we deal with them together. I'm not running away anymore." He promised as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him until she was lying with her head on his chest. "I just needed time to wrap my head around some shit regarding the past couple of days, and I didn't want to bring that home to you, darlin'. That's all, I promise."

Jolene Teller had known her old man since she was six years old. She knew what kind of man he was and had a pretty good idea of how his mind was dealing with the decisions he had made. Even though Jax knew he was doing what had to be done for the good of the Club and his family, she knew him well enough to know that he would probably wrestle with his conscience for a long time to come.

"Baby, I know that what you've done for your family—for us—is going to weigh heavy on you, but you don't have to shoulder it by yourself. I really hope you know that." Jolene pushed herself up to look him in the eyes. "I'm always here for you, Jax. I have _always_ loved you and I always will. Nothing will ever change that."

Jax sighed as he gently ran his hand through her beautiful hair. "What have I ever done to deserve you, Jo?" His voice was almost a whisper.

"Why would you ask that, baby?" Jolene furrowed her brow as she narrowed her eyes at him. "You know I only love you for your big dick." She teased.

Jax laughed as he pushed her onto her back and rolled on top of her. "Is that right?"

Suddenly serious, Jolene cupped his bearded face in her hands and brought her lips to his, kissing him long and slow. As always, the love she had for him was like a salve for his injured and bleeding soul. Jolene always knew what to do and say to help him deal with the shit that, as of late, seemed to be coming down on him like rain.

"I love you, Jolene."

"I know you do, baby." After all he had put himself through these past 48 hours, Jolene knew she would never doubt his love for her ever again.

* * *

Jolene was standing in the Clubhouse's kitchen, wearing nothing but one of Jax's SAMCRO t-shirts as she went about making a pot of coffee. She had spent the early morning lazily making love with her old man as the sun slowly made its appearance.

It was just her and Jax in the Clubhouse. Deciding to crawl back into bed with her husband while the coffee brewed, Jolene made her way into the Main Room and was surprised to find Jax sitting at one of the tables, in nothing but his jeans, smoking a cigarette.

"Hey, darlin'." He smiled at her, beckoning her into his arms. Waking up without her next to him had almost scared the life out of him. It took him a minute to remember he wasn't in Chino and was able to contain his shit only when he saw her clothes still on the floor by the bed.

Smiling, Jolene slipped onto his lap, holding his face in her hands as she kissed his mouth softly. "What are you doing up? I thought you were going to get a little more sleep, or didn't I wear you out enough?"

"Nah, babe. You invigorated me. Without our little cock-blocker busting in on us this morning, I'm really enjoying having you all to myself." He smiled.

Jolene stood up, holding both of his hands in hers. "Well, let's enjoy it while we can. Let's go back to bed."

"Wait a minute," Jax flashed her a sexy half grin. "I've got a better idea."

Jolene's eyes widened slightly as she let go of his hands.

"I'm a little curious," Jax started, nodding his head towards the stripper pole. "Just how good did you get at pole dancing?"

Jolene raised an eyebrow at him, her hand on her cocked hip. "I was more than good, baby. I was dynamite in a g-string." She drawled.

Jax looked around the semi-darkened Clubhouse. "See, when you say shit like that, darlin', all I can say is, since there's no one here, why don't you put your money where your mouth is and let me be the judge?" He winked at her.

"Now?" Jolene was looking at him like he had three heads.

"Hey, I do believe someone owes me epically after allowing our in-laws to move in. I know that with Lil' Peanut on board you can't give me the Full Monty, but a little sneak peek will do for now." He turned to look her directly in the eyes. "You know what they say, seeing is believing."

"Oh, so you doubt me?" Jolene laughed as she sashayed her way to the stripper pole and after flipping on some Guns-N-Roses, jumped onto the platform. Turning his chair around, Jax settled back, his arms crossed over his naked chest, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and a lecherous grin plastered on his face as he watched Jolene take several spins around the pole.

"Wait," Jolene stopped. "I may not be able to give you the pleasure of witnessing my whole routine, but I will give you something no one at the Lollipop Café ever got to enjoy." She smiled at Jax before pulling off her t-shirt.

Jax almost fell off his chair. The t-shirt was all she'd been wearing. Jax's eyes happily danced over her beautiful and flawless body, his crow tattoo and the nearly-faded scar on her chest somehow adding an edge to her soft sexiness and allure.

He would definitely classify her as more than good as she did things on that pole he'd seen others do hundreds of times before, but without the effect she was having on him.

Wrapping one leg around the pole, Jolene let herself spin around. Although she was quite capable of more acrobatic and difficult moves, in her current condition Jolene wasn't going to risk it. Instead, with her back to Jax, she bent over slightly while holding onto the pole and let one of Jax's most favorite assets shake like a bucket of jelly.

Jax nearly came in his pants as he watched her round and perfect ass jiggle up and down. "Fuck that shit!" Jax muttered under his breath as he jumped out of his seat. If any pole was going to make her ass bounce like that, it was going to be his.

Taken by surprise, Jolene yelped as Jax spun her around and yanked her off the platform. With her legs wrapped around his waist, Jax carried Jolene over to the pool table as he smothered her mouth with his. Dropping her onto the table, Jolene quickly undid his pants as he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her towards him. He was breathing hard as Jolene pulled his stiff cock out of his pants.

"Remind me never to doubt your skills ever again, darlin'."

* * *

As Jax and Jolene turned into the driveway of their home at the end of the cul-de-sac, Jolene's eyes widened as she noted the long line of bikes and cars parked out front. Parking her Mustang behind what was Donna's car, Jolene slammed her car door.

"I guess this explains where everybody went after you kicked them out of the Clubhouse." She said as her old man pulled up beside her.

"Don't any of these assholes have a home?" Jax grumbled good-naturedly as he pulled off his helmet. "Maybe we should have stayed at the Clubhouse."

"And miss Neeta's chocolate chip pancakes?" Jolene asked incredulously. "I don't think so." Jax got off his bike, causing Jolene to squeal as her old man grabbed her from behind. "Haven't you had enough?" She teased as Jax sent goosebumps straight down to her toes as he alternated kissing and sucking her neck.

"Babe, after seeing your pole dancing skills in action, I'm seriously considering installing one in our bedroom. You 'working the pole' has taken on a whole new meaning for me."

"I am so glad I found yet _another_ way to make you horny to add to the list, along with breathing and a stiff wind." Jolene turned in his arms as Jax's mouth slammed down on hers. Suddenly, Jax's eyes widened and Jolene wrinkled her nose in embarrassment as her stomach growled rather loudly, interrupting his examination of the back of her throat. "Damn, Lil' Peanut's hungry."

"Yeah, right. I guess this is the point where women start blaming the 'baby' for their need to eat everything in sight. If that's the case, darlin', you've must have been pregnant since you were six the way you eat." Jax joked.

"A-ha! You're so funny." Jolene smirked sarcastically, heading towards the front door. "I'd hold on to that pole dancing memory if I were you, sport, 'cause that's the last p—" She stopped in her tracks as she heard what Jax had to say next.

"Baby, let's tell them."

Turning around, Jolene saw the excited grin on his face. "You mean about Peanut? Now?"

He nodded. "The worst is over for us, Jo and I can't think of a better time. It's a new day, darlin', everyone's here, and we have a new life cooking in there. That is something to truly celebrate." Jax lovingly caressed her flat stomach.

Jolene wrapped her arms around her old man's neck as he squeezed her tight. "We are so going to get it for not saying anything sooner, Jax." She lamented.

"I'm your big strong man. I'll protect you."

_To the ends of the earth._

Entering their home, the couple quickly headed for the noise coming from the kitchen. Although the Tellers had expected a full house, they literally gaped at the crowd of people. Somehow, their entire SAMCRO family had managed to cram itself into the breakfast nook, the patio, and at the long family table in the kitchen itself. It seemed like every chair in the house had been pulled into service.

"Hey!" Jax bellowed loud enough to be heard over the boisterous voices and raucous laughter. Suddenly, all activity stopped as everyone turned to stare at him. The scowl on the face of the SAMCRO Acting President had Neeta ready to throw Gemma under the bus as it had been her idea in the first place. "What the hell is going on? You guys having a party without us?" He shouted as he finally cracked a smile.

Running through the crowd of bodies, Abel leaped into his father's arms. "Daddy! You been gone a long time!"

"I'm sorry, Little Man," Jax kissed his son on the forehead. "But I had some business to take care of."

Abel nodded his head. "I know and Grandma says it's finished, so we having a breakfast party."

"This is all on me, Jax. I thought this family needed to celebrate, in spite of the fact that I was the _last_ to know why a celebration would be in order in the first place." Gemma groused from behind Jax as she held another platter of Neeta's chocolate chip pancakes. Reaching out with her free hand, Gemma gave her son's ear a good tweak.

"Shit, Ma!" Jax yelped, grabbing his ear as Abel stared wide-eyed at his grandma.

"That's for starters. You'll get the full, unedited version when I get you alone later." Gemma eyed him, daring him to contradict her.

After marriage to two bikers and over thirty years living the Life, there wasn't much that could genuinely shock Gemma Teller-Morrow. Until the night before, that is, when Clay finally dumped the shitload of problems that had hit the Club sideways over the past week. The fear she had felt for her son and his new family, even after the fact, had literally rendered her speechless.

Accepting Jax's decision to keep his mother in the dark until it was all over, Clay decided that news of recent events would be better coming from him in order to soften the blow for Jax.

_Apparently, I was wrong_, Clay thought wryly as he watched his old lady tearing into their son.

Passing the platter of pancakes to Donna, Gemma turned her attention to her daughter-in-law. "And as for you." She started, the menacing look in her eyes the perfect match for the threatening tone in her voice.

However, before Jax could rein his mother and keep her from ripping into his old lady in front of everyone, Gemma reached out, gently pulling Jolene into a hug, which somehow frightened Jolene more than the thought of getting reamed. Stroking Jolene's hair softly, Gemma pulled away to look into her daughter-in-law's dazed and confused eyes. "I am so proud of you for stepping up and being there for your old man when he needed you the most. You took care of your family just like the ferocious Mama Bear I knew you'd grow up to be."

"I had an amazing mentor." Jolene smiled as she embraced the older woman again. "Does this mean I finally passed Old Ladies 101?"

"With flying colors!" Gemma laughed as she swiped away at her tears.

As the two women hugged it out, Clay found himself getting emotional. Sitting at the head of the table, seeing his entire family and his Club surrounding him as he ate a meal worthy of a king—which he was currently wolfing down before baby girl took his plate away—he didn't think he possibly could be any happier.

Neeta, who was standing next to Clay, looked down at the crusty old biker as she placed two more strips of bacon on his plate. "Give your mouth a chance to register the taste before you wolf this down too 'cause you ain't getting any more, so you better make it last." She whispered.

Grinning up at Neeta, Clay threw her a wink. "Good looking out."

"Daddy, what on _earth_ are you eating?"

"Don't you come any closer if your intention is to take my plate away." Clay pointed a fork at his daughter, who was bearing down on him. "It's a celebration and Mama Bear gave me a furlough from Tofu Prison."

"Okay, but come tomorrow, you are back on your strict diet. I want you around for a long, long time, Dad. Gemma's gonna need all the help she can get spoiling another grandchild." Jolene said as Jax, holding Abel in one arm, wrapped the other around his wife.

The room suddenly became quiet again, the only sound to be heard was Gemma's gasp as her hands flew up to her mouth.

Jolene looked up at Jax and smiled. "You wanna tell them?"

Jax bit his lip as he nodded his head solemnly. "Looks like I did it again," He started before beaming a smile at his mother. "I went ahead and knocked my old lady up a second time."

As laughter and cheers erupted, Abel grabbed his father by the hair on his chin and pulled, forcing Jax to look at him. "I don't know what that means, Daddy."

Losing Jolene as she was engulfed by a pack of old ladies, Jax chuckled. "It means we're having a baby, Little Man."

Abel's already-big green eyes doubled in size. "You mean I'm getting a baby sister?"

Jax was shaking his head vehemently as Bobby approached and slapped him on the back. "If you believe in karma, a little sister is exactly what you're getting, Abel." Bobby laughed as the little boy pumped his fists in celebration.

"Finally." Neeta heaved a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, Gemma, who was busy hugging Jolene, overheard the simple statement. An expert at reading between the lines, she practically pushed her daughter-in-law to the side as she turned on Neeta. "Finally what, Neeta?"

Neeta looked at Gemma like a deer caught in the headlights as she struggled to come up with a response.

_Oh shit__!_

"Uh, uh," Neeta stammered. "Finally? You must have heard wrong—I'm mean—isn't it wonderful that Abel's gonna _finally_ get a little brother or sister? Yeah, that's what I meant."

"Oh you know that's not what you fuckin' meant!" Gemma practically yelled.

"That's five dollars, Grandma!" Abel tried hollering above the laughter, but Gemma was too busy stalking her prey.

"You no good heifer! You knew!" Gemma called out, her heels click-clicking on the kitchen tiles as she practically chased the woman she had considered a good friend around the breakfast table. "You knew and you didn't tell me shit!"

Abel looked at his mother. "Mommy, did you know 5 + 5 is 10?"

Jolene tried to smother her laughter, but couldn't. "Yes, baby, I did." She soon stopped laughing when Neeta threw her ass under the bus.

Standing behind the mountain that was Opie, Neeta pointed a finger at Jolene. "Hey, I figured it out all on my own, honey. Jolene was the one swearing me to secrecy after I found her ass—" Slapping a hand over her mouth as she looked at Jax, Neeta realized she was just about to dime out her young friend.

Jax smiled at Neeta's expression. "Don't worry, Neeta. I'm not gonna chase you down. Jo told me you had figured it out."

Neeta sighed in relief. "That's great. I'm really glad she told you because I think I was making myself sick worrying about this child. No need for you to worry, though, Jax. I've been watching her like a hawk, making her eat and rest as much as possible. She hasn't had another episode since." The wide eyed panicked look Jolene was throwing at Neeta told the older woman she had stuck her foot in it. "Oh, shit. You didn't know about her cheek-to-floor dancing, did ya?"

"What the fuck, Jo?" Jax bore down on his old lady. "_Cheek-to-floor dancing_? For your sake that better not mean what I think it does."

"Baby, do we really have to discuss this now?" Jolene was batting impossibly long eyelashes at him, but Jax was nowhere near being appeased. Throwing her hands up, Jolene gave in. "Okay. I was going to tell you, but I made an executive decision to tell you _after_ you handled everything that was on your plate. You didn't need one more thing to worry about, Jax."

"In the future," Jax nearly growled. "I'd appreciate if you would let me decide whether or not something's too much for me to handle."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Jolene turned to glare at Neeta. "Thanks a lot."

"It's not her fault!" Clay bellowed, pissed that his daughter was pregnant and passing out with everyone none the wiser. "What the hell were you thinking, baby girl?"

"I was thinking that maybe my family needed me more than I needed them worrying about me. The plan was to tell you right after the bike rally, but then you had the accident and—Oh fuck!" Too late, Jolene realized she had babbled on too much.

"Daddy, what's five five dollars together?" Abel piped up as he tried to keep track with his fingers.

"You knew since the bike rally?" Gemma, Clay _and_ Bobby shouted at Jolene.

"And if I know her partner-in-crime over there," Neeta nodded over at Donna. "I bet she knew, too."

_If I'm going down, I'm __not__ going down alone._

Gemma whipped her head in Donna's direction. "You knew, too? Humph! I wonder who you told." Gemma looked right at Opie.

"Hey, _I_ didn't tell anybody. Jax told Opie." Donna shot back.

"I can't believe you just put me in this shit." Opie exclaimed as their audience continued laughing.

"Don't worry," Donna laughed. "You were just ammunition. She's going after her real target now."

As Gemma whipped her head around to face her son, Jax knew that he was in the shit for real this time. "Ma, I'm holding your grandson, so think twice before you start hurling shit at my head."

Gemma threw her hands up. "My tits were never the same again and this is the thanks I get for bringing you into the world. Opie didn't carry your ass around for nine months in kick ass high heels. I did, but he's the first one you tell? Has _everyone_ forgotten that I am the HBIC in this damn town?"

"How could they with that loud mouth of yours?" Piney groused as everyone laughed. He held up his shot glass containing his beverage of choice. "To my new drinking buddy, whenever she gets here."

"Jesus Christ! Can everyone just stop with this 'she' business?" Jax was seriously exasperated as his old lady pulled him down for a kiss.

Seeing everyone genuinely happy and laughing gave Gemma pause. Realizing that the impending birth of her next grandchild was not a cause for a feud, she let her anger dissipate. Looking at Neeta, who was still hovering behind Opie, Gemma shoved the big man out of the way so she could finally confront her friend.

Neeta decided that she was done running. Crossing her arms, she eyed her friend. "Are we done?"

"Oh, so you're done running now, huh?" Gemma crossed her arms too.

"Hey, I might have been running scared for a hot minute, but you ought to know me by now. I ain't no punk bitch. So, we cool now?"

Gemma sighed. "Oh, get over here, you damn heifer." Wrapping their arms around each other, both of the women started laughing. "We are going to have so much fun with my new grandbaby!" Gemma whispered gleefully.

"But first, we gonna need to watch Jolene's ass like a hawk." Neeta whispered back. "She's been getting away with a whole lot a shit. It's a good thing you moved in here. Between us, we can keep her in line."

"All right you two. If you're gonna keep up with all this sappy shit, I guess there's one more piece of news to share." Clay said. Clearing a path with his wheelchair, Clay headed towards the Tellers' front door. "C'mon everybody. There's something outside we need to check out." Grabbing his grandson from Jax, he deposited him in his lap.

Neeta looked at Gemma quizzically. "What is he carrying on about now? I know he's not thinking he can get his broken down ass on that bike of his. _Is he_?"

Looping her arm with Neeta's, Gemma smiled. "Let's go see."

* * *

Clay managed his wheelchair through the front door and came to a halt at the edge of the front porch, his family following closely behind.

"Neeta, I hate to spoil this day, but I have some bad news for you." Clay started ominously. "I know that you asked Jax to fix that heap o' junk you've been riding, but that piece of shit's not worth the man power it's gonna take to get it running properly again."

Neeta shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not too surprised. Poor thing was on its last legs anyway. Guess we're gonna have to discuss a raise so that I can get myself another used one."

"Whoa, slow down there, lady." Clay grinned. "I don't think that's going to be necessary."

Suddenly, the door of the third garage bay opened and everyone heard the powerful roar of an engine. A moment later, a Ford Explorer Sport SUV in Ruby Red with a huge white bow on the hood rolled out to stop in front of the house and Half-Sack hopped out of the driver's seat.

Clay grinned at his shell-shocked housekeeper. "I hope you like the color. Abel picked it out."

"Oh and Miss Neeta, it was _so_ hard keepin' a secret, too." Abel said from his grandfather's lap. "But I wasn't gonna violin the man code, right Papa?"

"You mean 'violate', Little man." Clay corrected.

Abel nodded emphatically. "Yeah, that too, Papa."

Clay chuckled. "Anyway, it's this year's top buy and even though I know you were fonda your Honda, I don't buy foreign-made cages. I only buy American."

"Are you shitting me?" Neeta screeched as everyone clapped and whistled loudly. "You brought me a car? Are you frickin' insane?"

"Nah," Clay sported a shit-eating grin. "I'm just really good at bribes."

"Oh no you don't!" Gemma said as she punched her husband on his good arm. "Despite the fact that this was all his own idea, he knows that this won't buy him a damn meal in this house. You, my old man, are on a strict diet and that's the way it's going to stay."

Jax smiled as the large women looked as if she were on the verge of passing out. "Go on and check it out, Neeta. This bitch is fully loaded—navigation system, top of the line rims, awesome stereo system, DVD player—the works." Wrapping an arm around the woman, who was trying desperately to fight tears, Jax whispered. "You're a big part of our family and SAMCRO takes care of its own. Now, go on, take her for a test ride."

Giving Jax a hug that Jolene noticed with a smirk lasted a little longer than necessary, Neeta walked over to Gemma and Clay. Hugging Gemma first, Neeta looked down at the old biker. "You know Gem's right. This here," She pointed at her new ride. "Isn't going to get you any bad-for-you food out of my kitchen."

"I accept that."

Bending over, Neeta whispered, "I ain't gonna get sloppy all over you," She said in spite of the tears flowing down her face. "But thank you so much."

Clay grinned. "Listen, you've looked out for my baby girl and our family all these years. This is just a small token to show you my appreciation."

Neeta smiled and suddenly threw her arms around the old biker. "Maybe one or two bad meals every now and again won't hurt." She murmured and then straightened up to run down the stairs to the open door of her new ride.

Clay sighed happily as his old lady wrapped an arm around him.

_Neeta Benson is one classy __broad._

_**The End?**_

**A/N: Maybe . . . maybe not. I really hope that you guys have enjoyed ****This Charming Life****. I had a really great time writing this and tackling the themes that I did in Jax and Jolene's relationship. They have gone through the fire and have come out stronger because of it. But there is one more thing they need to do to make them a true family and that's to welcome Lil' Peanut into the world. So I hope you guys enjoy the remaining chapters of this story, coming to you very soon and which will bring this trilogy to its proper conclusion. As always, I appreciate your detailed reviews in the box below.**


	20. Baby Mamas Make the Worst Patients

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

The week since dealing with all threats to his old lady and the Club had been much more hectic than Jax had anticipated.

Having just returned to Charming late this morning, Jax sat back in his seat at the head of the table and lit a cigarette as he only half-listened to Chibs give a detailed account of his recent trip to Belfast. Just a couple days ago, as Jax, Opie, and Tig made their way to Tucson, Chibs had returned from his mission to personally deliver to the Irish Kings Luke Moran's videotaped confession. While on the road, Jax had gotten the details of the Council's reaction straight from Declan Brogan. Needless to say, after the acres of shit the Club had to wade through to get to this point, the future of SAMCRO was looking as bright, if not brighter than ever. The Kings had been extremely pleased with the success and efficiency with which SAMCRO had handled the elimination of all threats to their long-standing business relationship.

Declan advised that the Sons' new RIRA contact, Cameron Hayes, would be arriving in California imminently to introduce himself personally to SAMCRO. Cammy Hayes, cousin to Michael McKeavey and a long-time soldier of the Cause, had met with Victor Putlova the minute he arrived states side.

Cameron had explained to the ROC boss that Jimmy O's intention had been to swindle both the RIRA and the ROC out of millions. After discovering this treachery, Jimmy and his cohort had been tracked down and dealt with accordingly. In the process, the RIRA had recovered $1.5 million that had been in their possession and which the Irish Kings felt obligated to return to Putlova.

Putlova, who had been justifiably angry, informed Hayes that the money being returned to him was short $500K. Cameron claimed ignorance as to the missing money, but promised Putlova that he would discuss restitution with the Kings, although he was unsure if he could get the ROC more than just a steep discount on their next shipment. Unfortunately, however, because the deal to bring in the ROC as the new NorCal distributor had been brokered by Jimmy without the Council's knowledge or consent, it was null and void. The Sons of Anarchy would continue as the RIRA's NorCal connection, but to make up for it, the Council was willing to roll back the price of their merch to what it had been before Jimmy came along.

Declan then advised Jax that the High Council had agreed that the Sons deserved to be compensated and, along with their next gun shipment, Cameron would bring to them the $500K that the Council had held back from the Russians. Word that SAMCRO would be generously recompensed not only for their assistance in cleaning house for the Irish, but for all the inconvenience Jimmy O had caused was greeted by a raucous round of applause. As his brothers celebrated the unexpected windfall, Jax also advised that the Council was considering opening up their full arsenal of weaponry to the Sons, which could generate even more business for the Club.

As for the ATF's investigation into the SAMCRO-RIRA connection, Agent Stahl's "suicide", and the media frenzy that followed it, left a stain on the progress she had made since taking over for Agent Reinhardt. For now, it seemed, the Stockton Division was more concerned with saving face as they were overwhelmed by Washington's audit of all of Stahl's cases going back as far as ten years. With several Senate committees being formed to investigate the Stahl debacle, the ATF pulled its remaining team of agents working on the RIRA-NorCal gun connection out of Charming to aid in the federal investigation.

With the presumed death of Jimmy O'Phelan and the disappearances of his second-in-command Luke Moran and the ATF's only Confidential Informant, Wendy Case, the investigation was thrown on the back burner, with no one willing to take on a case last handled by an agent that had ended her career in such disgrace. The ATF heat on the Sons of Anarchy seemed to have cooled off. For now.

It seemed to Jax that in the last few days he had done enough talking to last him a lifetime, so he turned to his VP to fill in the rest of SAMCRO on their recent visit to the Tucson charter. Even though the SAMTAZ President was aware of the circumstances surrounding Huff's patching out, Jax felt he owed Little Paul the respect of discussing the situation face-to-face, even if the decision had been the mother charter's alone to make.

Jax smiled to himself as Opie recounted Little Paul's reaction.

"_You should have buried that asshole neck deep in the desert!" Little Paul had growled. "I hope he's somewhere in Tijuana by now because he's dead if he ever shows his face in Arizona again."_

Jax, Opie, and Tig hung around for the patching in of Armando Gonzalez as SAMTAZ's new VP before heading back to Charming. For now, Jax advised Little Paul, the plan for SAMTAZ to expand its gun business was off the table. SAMCRO would continue assembling _and_ transporting the merch to the Tucson charter for its regular 25% fee.

"How did he take tha' bit o' news?" Chibs chuckled.

"Not good." Opie replied.

"Considering Little Paul's lapse in judgment," Jax added. "I really couldn't give a shit how he took it. He's just lucky I didn't strip him of his President patch, too."

There was a sudden and urgent knock on the Chapel door. "Jax!" It was Gemma. "Jax!" The pounding continued.

At Jax's nod, Tig jumped from his chair and opened the door.

"Can't whatever this is wait? We're in the middle of something, Ma." Jax advised Gemma as she pushed her way past Tig.

"Oh sure." Gemma replied sarcastically. "It can wait, that's why I was pounding on the door!"

"What is it?" Jax asked as he rubbed his face with both hands, road weary and a little irritable.

"Nothing, really, unless you don't mind sharing the doghouse with Chopper." Gemma answered as Jax gave his mother a look that pleaded with her to get on with it. "You should have been at the hospital fifteen minutes ago."

Jax's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Oh shit! Why didn't you say something sooner?" He got up and ran past Gemma and out the Chapel doors.

"I just got here and saw your bike outside, asshole!" Gemma called out, but it fell on deaf ears as Jax was already in the parking lot.

Tig smirked. "Baby mama-duty calls, so I guess this meeting's adjourned, boys."

* * *

Jolene was sitting alone in a small conference room on the fourth floor of St. Thomas' Cardio-Thoracic Surgery Unit. With her elbows on the table and her hands on her forehead, she was nervously bouncing her right leg on the ball of her stiletto booted-foot. With Jax gone for the past few days, she had made the extra effort this morning to look hot and sexy for her old man when he returned. Who knew how long before she couldn't pull off the hot biker chick-look anymore, or at least until Lil' Peanut was born? However, Jolene realized, it had obviously been a wasted effort as she looked at the empty seat her husband should be sitting in and frowned.

Deep in thought, Jolene's head suddenly snapped up when she heard the conference room door open. Ready to tear into her old man, she was disappointed to see Dr. Negron, her heart specialist, enter the room with his colleague, a middle-aged, darkly handsome man with silvery-gray hair, who Jolene was unfamiliar with.

"I am so sorry, Jolene," Dr. Negron started. "I know you wanted your husband here, but Dr. Namid also has an office in Stockton and an appointment book full of patients to see today. We must start our meeting now."

"I completely understand," Jolene got up from her seat to greet both doctors. "It was very considerate of you to postpone the start time by half an hour."

"Mrs. Teller, it is a pleasure to finally meet you." Dr. Namid extended his hand.

"Please, call me Jolene, Dr. Namid." Jolene smiled as everyone took a seat at the conference table.

"As I'm sure you know—" Dr. Negron started, but was interrupted as the conference door flew open.

"I'm so sorry I'm late." Jax apologized as he quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him. Jolene crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, her lips puckered up with tons of attitude.

"Mr. Teller," Dr. Negron got up to shake Jax's hand. "No worries. We just started. Please come in and join us." Jax quickly shook the other doctor's hand as well before taking the seat to Jolene's right. Jolene looked away again without acknowledging his presence as he came into her line of sight.

_She's pissed._

"This is Dr. Yusef Namid," Dr. Negron finally got the opportunity to properly introduce his colleague. "He's the head of our Pediatric Unit here at St. Thomas. Not only is Dr. Namid an excellent Obstetrician, but he's also a pediatric surgeon specializing in congenital heart defects or CHD. St. Thomas is lucky to have him on staff. His stellar reputation has enabled him to assemble a magnificent team of Obstetricians who specialize in high risk pregnancies. Considering a family history of CHD, I thought it best to have him on board from day one."

As Dr. Namid took over, explaining his experience regarding newborns with heart defects, Jolene swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and reached for Jax's hand. Squeezing her ice cold hand reassuringly, Jax knew exactly what his old lady was feeling. He could feel the cold fingers of fear wrapping tightly around his own heart.

Dr. Namid did his best to assure the couple that they had nothing to worry about yet. He did, however, want to get preliminary tests out of the way and had taken the liberty of making an appointment for Jolene at the hospital's pre-natal clinic later this afternoon. They would take it from there once he got the results back.

"I must run now, but if you have any questions at all," Dr. Namid started as he handed Jolene one of his cards. "Do not hesitate to call my office. Unless there is an emergency, my surgical days are Mondays and Wednesdays. Otherwise, I am always available."

As the soft spoken man departed the conference room, Jolene fingered the doctor's card with her free hand while mentally compiling a laundry list of things that could go wrong with this pregnancy. That's why even though Dr. Negron's next words did not take her by surprise, they did scare the shit out of her.

"Well, that was the easy part." Dr. Negron said before holding up a finger and scolding her with it. "I am not happy at all with you, Jolene. We have much to discuss."

* * *

Sitting upright in her hospital bed, Jolene Teller was still reeling from how quickly her ass had been put in lockdown.

Looking at the I.V. which was currently inserted into her arm, Jolene groaned softly. "I guess this is what I get for trying to manage my own healthcare." She muttered under her breath.

"You're lucky this is all you're getting . . . for now." Jolene looked up at her old man, whose arms were folded across his hard, muscled chest, his handsome face grim. She could feel the angry heat emanating off of him from clear across the room.

Jolene cringed a little as she realized he was looking at her like he wanted to put her over his knee. _Damn, that is one pissed off biker._

Normally, an angry Jax was a hot Jax and it was too bad that, after a three-day separation, Jolene couldn't take advantage of it. She could already picture her feet on his shoulders as he angrily pounded into her. For her sake, however, and that of their baby, Jolene was right where she needed to be. Even if she wasn't happy about it at all.

Jolene bit her lip as she eyed her old man. His silence roared in her ears as he had said very little to her since arriving at the hospital. "Are you going to be mad at me forever?"

"Probably."

"Shit, Jax!"

"Yeah, and your ass is hip deep in it, darlin'." Her old man growled.

Thinking that she had been better off with him being silently angry at her, Jolene threw herself back onto the bed and covered her eyes with her I.V.-free arm. She looked distraught and Jax was starting to feel guilty for laying on the guilt so thick. Uncrossing his arms, Jax pushed himself away from the wall and went to Jolene's bed side.

"Come here, baby." He gently grabbed her arm and pulled her into a sitting position. Careful not to disturb her I.V., Jax cradled her against his chest as Jolene wrapped her arms around his lean waist.

"I'm sorry." Jolene apologized, her voice small and broken.

"I know." Jax stroked her hair before kissing the top of her head. "It's just so unlike you, Jo. You are the most responsible person I know."

"Honestly, I didn't think it was a big deal." She replied. Closing her eyes, Jolene recalled the meeting with Dr. Negron only hours earlier.

The meeting lasted only about twenty minutes, but to Jolene it felt much longer as Dr. Negron proceeded to read her the riot act. After abruptly ending the meeting, Dr. Negron had Jolene taken down to the pre-natal clinic where, after a thorough examination by a staff OB/GYN, several nurses had descended on her and took what must have been at least two quarts of her bodily fluids for testing. After being traumatized by several large needles and a huge plastic cup she was expected not only to pee in, but fill up, Jolene had been whisked off to a private room for the next five frickin' days.

Dr. Negron had started the interrogation as soon as the door closed behind Dr. Namid. He revealed that he and Dr. Namid had met several days before to discuss her case. After they had both reviewed all of her and Abel's medical files, they had both agreed to assemble a team of specialists, including themselves, as well as a mid-wife for high-risk mothers to look after Jolene during her pregnancy and beyond.

With her husband present, Dr. Negron asked Jolene to discuss in detail how her own heart condition had impacted her first pregnancy and what impact, if any, was it having on this one. Not given much of a choice, Jolene had to go into explicit detail once again regarding her difficult first pregnancy, even though Dr. Negron had all but memorized her medical files forwarded to him by her doctor in Seattle. The situation became even tenser when Jolene advised Dr. Negron that she had recently taken herself off of several medications he himself had prescribed five years ago. That, needless to say, had not gone over very well with Dr. Negron or her seething husband, for that matter.

As a result of the shooting that had put her under the heart specialist's care, Jolene had one of the valves in her heart replaced with a bio-prosthetic one. Before leaving the hospital, she had been prescribed several medications that were extremely necessary and it was important that she take them regularly, Dr. Negron had explained angrily, unless her intention was to, indeed, kill herself. Two of the medications were for regulating her heartbeat and the other—the most important one of all—prevented her blood from forming blood clots that could ultimately prove to be life-threatening. Apparently, along with her birth control, Jolene had decided to slowly wean herself off of all medication as she and Jax actively tried to get pregnant. Not really taking into consideration what affect doing so would have on her own health, Jolene did not want the meds causing her unborn baby any harm.

Jolene, it turns out, had done the same thing during Abel's pregnancy, which went a long way in explaining all of the complications she had suffered after giving birth. According to Dr. Negron, pregnant women who have had heart valve replacement surgery faced significant risk to both themselves and the child they carried. It was standard practice for Dr. Negron to advise a woman with such an implant against having children. Jolene had almost walked out of the meeting when Dr. Negron suggested she consider aborting the fetus, but not before giving him piece of her mind.

At that point, the meeting had come to a screeching halt as Dr. Negron made arrangements for Jolene to be seen at the pre-natal clinic as she and Jax sat in silence. As much as Jax loved the thought of having more children with Jolene, he loved his old lady much more, which was why Jolene avoided making eye contact with him as they sat alone in the conference room. She knew what he was thinking and was probably just waiting for the right moment to say it out loud. The last thing she wanted was for Jax to break her heart by opening his mouth and confirming that he agreed with Dr. Negron.

After having determined that her recent fainting episode, arrhythmia, and flop sweat might be an indication that her heart was working twice as hard to circulate the extra volume of blood needed during pregnancy, Dr. Negron advised that he was admitting Jolene into St. Thomas ASAP. There were alternative treatments that would keep her heart healthy and keep her blood from clotting without harming her baby. Unfortunately, the fact that she had been without medication for months now made it necessary for the new meds to be administered while under observation. Jolene would be put on a new regimen intravenously, with blood tests done twice a day. Once it was determined that the new meds were working and her blood work came back normal, she would be free to go home with a new prescription.

"How long are we talking about, Doc?" Jax had asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose to release the tension in his head.

"Five days." Dr. Negron had replied grimly as his patient groaned. "Maybe now you'll think twice about doing my job for me, isn't that right, Jolene?"

So here she was, sitting in her hospital bed, trying to figure out a way to keep the news of her brain fart from going viral.

_Lord knows that Jax is prolly the least of my problems._

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?" Gemma raged as she paced back and forth in front of Jolene's hospital bed.

"Ain't it obvious? She wasn't thinking, damn it!." Bobby argued. "Otherwise she wouldn't be here, isn't that right, Kit?"

"I _knew_ that you looked too pale for your own good. I should have listened to my gut and dragged your ass to the doctor myself." Donna fumed.

"You know Jo, it's not like you to be so irresponsible." Opie chided.

"Apparently, you've never met my daughter-in-law." Gemma shot back sarcastically.

"Do you even know how hard it was for Jax to tell Abel that his momma is in the hospital?" Neeta folded her arms. "The poor baby has barely recovered from his Papa's recent stay in St. Thomas and is _still_ not convinced that you're okay. He won't believe it 'til he hears it from you, so you have to call your baby before his bedtime."

"Let's not even get started with your father. He feels helpless enough cooped up in that house. If he could, he'd be down here kicking your ass his own damn self." Gemma countered. As her cell phone vibrated in the front pocket of her jeans, she pulled it out to look at the caller I.D. "Speak of the devil." Answering her phone, Gemma grimaced. "Hold on a minute! Don't go jumping up my ass! Here she is!" Gemma stuck out her hand with her cell phone in it. "Go on. Take your ass-whupping like the smartass know-it-all you are."

Jolene ran a hand through her hair and sighed as she reached for the phone. "Hi, Dad." She said hesitantly. "How are you—"

"_Fuck that, baby girl! What the hell were you thinking?" Clay barked over the phone._

"I—"

"_I don't want to hear it, Jolene!"_

"Daddy, you asked—"

"_Don't you 'Daddy' me! Did it ever occur to you that maybe not taking your meds was the reason you'd been looking like hell lately?"_

"Gee, Dad, that's a bit harsh." Jolene replied, a little hurt. "I didn't think I looked that bad. Just tired."

"_Why in the world wouldn't you take better care of yourself? Why wouldn't you let your family be there for you?" Clay shouted._

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe my family needed me more, Dad?" Jolene managed to shout back.

"_Not when you're carrying my next grandson! Not when you're putting your own health at risk to take care of shit that other people can handle! Obviously, baby __girl, you need to take a few more lessons from my old lady and learn how to fuckin' delegate." Clay growled._

Jolene rubbed her hand across her forehead as she heard a little voice piping in the background_. "Is that my Mommy? I wanna talk to Mommy! Pleeease." _

"_Here, speak to your boy, but know that this conversation is far from over." Clay warned._

"Hey, baby." Jolene's voice wavered a little as she heard the concern in her little boy's voice.

"_Mommy, are you okay? When are you coming home? Me and Chopper miss you."_

"I know, sweetie, and I miss you, too. I'm fine. I really am, but my doctor needs me to stay in the hospital while he gives me some new medicine."

"_Are you gonna come home soon?" _

"Yes, baby. I promise, but until then, I want you to be a good boy for Neeta and Grandma, and Papa, Daddy, and Bear, okay? You promise?"

"_I promise, Mommy. I love you." _

"I love you too, baby." Jolene swiped at her tears. "Tell Papa I'll talk to him tomorrow, but I'll call you later when it's time for you to go to bed. I want you to read me your favorite story over the phone."

"_Okay, Mommy."_

As Jolene closed the phone, she grabbed a tissue from the box on the table to wipe her eyes.

Seeing Jolene get emotional, Neeta was the first to back off. "Oh, child, don't start crying, or I'm going to start, too."

"Yeah, Kit. It's going to be okay. You'll be home with your family before you know it." Bobby agreed.

"That's right," Gemma replied. "And we're all going to do our part to keep an eye on you."

Jolene smiled weakly, her shoulders suddenly shaking uncontrollably as she finally broke down and sobbed.

_That's what I'm afraid of._

* * *

Jax looked at the time on his pre-pay. It was almost eleven o'clock. Even though visiting hours at St. Thomas started at 1 p.m., as the father of their baby, he had 24-hour access to his old lady during her stay on the maternity ward. Jolene, who was having trouble resigning herself to staying in the hospital when she felt perfectly fine, had taken advantage of that fact last night by not letting him go home.

Sharing her hospital bed, Jolene had slept soundly cuddled up against him. Jax, on the other hand, woke up several times during the night to the sound of a woman first weeping in the room next door, and then wailing. The nurse, who had come to check on Jolene during the night, had informed Jax that the crying woman in the next room had miscarried. Jolene was being kept in the section of the maternity ward reserved for the high-risk cases and that's when the severity of their situation hit Jax like a ton of bricks.

As the morning shift at the hospital started their day at 7 a.m. by taking patient vitals, Jax extracted himself from Jolene in order to get her some decent decaf. Walking towards the elevator, he ran into Dr. Namid, who was about to begin his morning rounds.

"Good morning, Mr. Teller." Dr. Namid greeted the young man and shook his hand. "I was just on my way to check on your wife."

Still a little shaken up by all the thoughts rattling around his head, Jax ran his hand over the hair on his chin. "Dr. Namid, if you have the time, could we talk for a minute?"

Dr. Namid was not unaccustomed to dealing with anxious fathers-to-be. This, however, was his first time dealing with an anxious, obviously worried, and otherwise menacing biker father-to-be.

"Absolutely." Dr. Namid smiled and led the way into a small meeting room at the other end of the hall.

"First off, I wanted to thank you for the excellent care Jolene is getting." Jax started.

Dr. Namid nodded. "I am just glad she came to see us when she did. It was rather foolish of your wife to take herself off of her medication without consulting her doctor. The results of her initial blood work were quite alarming. Let's just say that it's a very good thing she's back on a blood thinner. Dr. Negron made the right call."

Jax swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Was it really that bad?"

"I wish I could say otherwise, but by thinking she was doing the right thing she was actually setting herself up for dire consequences. Had Jolene developed clots, she could have suffered a stroke or an embolism, which could have killed her as well as your baby." The doctor explained.

Jax rubbed his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut. Hearing that Jolene could have died sent a sharp pain right through his own heart. The look on Jax's face, however, had Dr. Namid wanting to set his mind at ease.

"Mr. Teller, please understand that Jolene is getting the treatment she needs. The blood work done over the last few days has come back normal and it seems that the worst is over, but she needs to continue her new regimen once she leaves the hospital." Dr. Namid advised. "If she does, both of you will get to enjoy a happy and normal pregnancy because, not taking into consideration the injury Jolene suffered five years ago, she is in extremely good health."

Jax took a deep breath and let it out with great relief. "Thanks, Doc. I actually feel a lot better knowing this."

"I completely understand your concerns and, judging from the time I have been able to spend with Jolene, I can see that you certainly have your hands full. She comes across as extremely independent and _single-minded_, is that the right term?" Dr. Namid asked with a half-grin.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'stubborn', Doc." _And that's just one of the reasons I love her._ They probably wouldn't be the couple they are today had Jolene abandoned her stubborn pursuit of him so many years ago. "And yes, I know exactly what I'm in for."

Both men laughed.

"Now, I don't want to further alarm you, Mr. Teller, but we should really discuss the other situation that could result in complications." Dr. Namid started just as Jax thought he was getting out of the conversation with his mind finally at ease.

"The CHD?" He asked and Dr. Namid nodded.

"I know it runs on your side of the family, but according to what I've read, you managed to outgrow the hole in your heart without surgery, is that right?"

Jax agreed, and went on to explain that he must have been around two or three years old when the results of a heart scan came back normal. He was tested annually until he was a teenager. His younger brother Tommy had not been so fortunate. Tommy's heart murmur had progressively worsened as he got older and even after numerous operations to repair the hole, the murmur just kept coming back. Eventually, Tommy had died of heart failure at just 8 years old.

After outlining the various scenarios that could be expected, Dr. Namid assured Jax that he would monitor both mother and child every step of the way. They would be more than prepared to deal with the situation should the baby be born with CHD. He then offered to have one of the nurses compile a packet of information for him to read, both on CHD and bio-prosthetic heart valve implants. While Jax's features had remained calm, inside he was trying to do his best to contain his shit.

_This could get ugly._

Jax finally closed the file containing the information Dr. Namid had promised and that he had been pouring over for the last hour or so in the meeting room. Jolene was probably wondering if he had flown to Columbia for their coffee. Jax rubbed his face with both hands. Thinking of the little slip of woman he loved more than life itself, Jax chuckled. She might just very well succeed in unknowingly breaking him when even the Irish, the ATF, and a crazy ex-wife combined had failed to do so.

Jax knew he had his work cut out for him with Jolene, but most important to him was being the rock she needed to rest on. Hearing and reading about all the shit that could go wrong had been difficult, but now he felt empowered by that knowledge.

With Jolene responding so well to her new medication, Dr. Namid had consulted with Dr. Negron and they both agreed that Jolene could go home in the next day or two. Now, with Dr. Namid's blessing, Jax was going to do something he had been promising himself since before the summer began.

He was taking his family away on vacation.

Even though both doctors agreed that flying should be avoided, travel by car was fine as long as frequent stops were made, allowing Jolene to walk around in order to keep her circulation flowing. A family vacation, Dr. Namid had said, was probably the best thing for Jolene right now. A stress-free getaway with her loved ones would definitely be a benefit and the perfect way to leave this recent scare behind and start fresh.

Determined to make that happen, Jax left to go get the decaf he had promised his old lady about two hours ago. But first, he was going to call Opie's house. If he wanted to make this getaway special, he needed Intel and who better to provide it than the one other person that knew Jolene better than he did.

_Donna._

* * *

_Now this is relaxing!_

Jolene wriggled all over, much like a frisky little lap dog as she stretched out on the beach chair she was occupying, the warmth of the California sun bearing down on her gleaming body.

Jolene still had a little trouble grasping onto the idea that she was actually on vacation. It had taken three solid days away from Charming for it finally sink in and she was reveling in it. Jolene loved her family, but she wouldn't be lying if she said that just getting away from them for an extended period of time was all the rest and relaxation she needed.

After her release from her enforced lockdown at St. Thomas, it had taken her collective SAMCRO family all of two minutes to have Jolene wishing she was still there. With barely a moment to reconnect with her ecstatic son, Jolene had been subjected to the full-on angst of her family regarding how stupidly she had managed her pregnancy up to that point. Banding together once again, they had picked up on their righteous ass-ripping just where they had left off in the hospital, with Clay being by far the worst offender.

_So much for Jax's plan to start fresh_, Jolene thought mournfully as she sat on the couch with her head in her hands.

And, apparently, after seeing his wife's distress, Jax felt the same way. Her old man had quickly swooped in, coming to her rescue by putting his foot down that everyone was to cut her a break.

_Oh my, the things I will do to him to show him my _gratitude, Jolene thought at the time.

Unfortunately, her gratitude, much like her reprieve, was short-lived. Jolene cringed a little as she reflected on the sudden reappearance of the hot and angry biker she had seen at the hospital.

After celebrating her return with a family dinner prepared by Neeta, who had knocked herself out making all of Jolene's favorites, Jax suggested they call it a night earlier than usual. After taking turns reading Abel several bedtime stories, they had left their son in a deep slumber before retreating to their room. However, the bedroom door had barely closed behind them before all thoughts of a naughty good time escaped her mind. Jax had picked her up and placed her in the middle of their King-sized bed and crossed his arms over his chest, with his Grrr-face firmly in place.

_That's when I knew I was really in the shit._

Hoping to cut him off at the pass, Jolene got up on her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. Coyly grabbing onto the SAMCRO belt he wore with his jeans, Jolene slowly pulled herself up and snaked her arms around his waist.

"I'm not having it, Jo." He warned, his face still set in stone.

"Not having what, baby?" Jolene practically purred as she nuzzled his neck, dotting his skin with kisses.

"You know damn well what the fuck I'm talking about." With his voice raspy and his breathing uneven, Jolene knew she almost had him. That is, until he grabbed her shoulders and gently pushed her away. "You really think that I'm just gonna let slide the danger you put yourself in with a couple of well-placed kisses?"

Unfortunately for Jolene, Jax had plenty of time to follow up on the literature given to him by Dr. Namid. The additional information he had been able to find did very little to set his mind at ease. As a matter of fact, it had painted a far clearer and more realistic view of what he could expect over the course of the next few months. Without a doctor around to soften the blow of what he had read, seeing the information in all its stark black and white glory had a deep impact. And he wasn't happy about it.

Jolene crossed her arms underneath her chest and sighed as she eyed her grim-faced biker. "I guess not, but what I had in mind was way more than just kissing, baby." She batted her eyelashes at him and still nothing. Flustered, Jolene finally pleaded, "Jax, please tell me that you at least realize that I didn't do it on purpose. Honestly, I really didn't think it would be a big deal coming off my meds, especially since I did it gradually."

Jax anxiously ran his hands through his hair. "That's probably the only reason you're still alive." He retorted bluntly. "Had you gone cold turkey and stopped your meds all at once, there was a real chance of a clot forming. Do you even know what would happen if a clot comes loose and travels to your lungs or your brain? You might not even make it to the hospital." Jax cupped Jolene's face in his hands. "Don't you know by now that losing you would fuckin' break me?"

Looking into his moist blue eyes, Jolene was shocked by the raw emotion she saw there and rapidly blinked her own. "I'm so sorry." She whispered. "I didn't know. It never occurred to me that I was in danger. I just wanted to make sure that I didn't harm the baby by taking heart medication."

Jax pressed his forehead against hers. "I really want everything to work out for us, darlin', I really do, but maybe I should have just been happy with Abel." He started, but Jolene was shaking her head, her eyes closed. "Maybe we should think about what Dr. Negron suggested—"

Jolene quickly put her mouth over his, kissing him until she was sure he'd forget to finish his thought. "Don't. Please don't regret this baby, Jax. I don't, not for one minute." Wrapping her arms around his neck, Jolene clung to Jax as he held her tight. "After everything we've been through, and not just this summer alone, but throughout so many years, I have to believe that it's all been for something. It can't play out like this for us. It's not fair. Besides, I love you too damn much to even contemplate getting rid of a part of you."

"Jo," Jax was lovingly stroking her back. "If the risk is me losing you forever this time, that's not a risk I'm willing to take."

"Baby, I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to make sure that Lil' Peanut and I make it through this _together_." Jolene said earnestly. "I made it through with Abel with far less support and knowledge then I have now. We'll be fine because above all, and God help me with this, I have my big, strong, and sexy biker around to keep my ass in check."

Jax smiled down at her, somewhat pacified by what she had said. "Damn straight you do," He confirmed. "But aside from keeping your ass in line, I am solely responsible for making sure that you are taken care of in every other way possible, too."

And to Jolene's great relief, he proceeded to fuck her six ways to Sunday.

Otherwise preoccupied, Jax had surprised her the following morning with the news of their soon-to-happen family vacation.

* * *

Redwood National Park, located along the coast of Northern California, is one of four state parks that together protect 45% of all remaining coastal redwoods. While Redwoods are known for being the tallest and one of the most massive tree species on Earth, not many know that they are also the oldest, with some trees living for 2000 years.

The park, located about 360 miles away from Charming, was a treasure trove for those who loved exploring the great outdoors and was home to hundreds of species of flora and fauna. It was also a popular destination for families who enjoyed all types of outdoor recreation such as camping and hiking, horse back riding and kayaking, fishing and swimming.

And swimming in the cool waters of the Northern Pacific was exactly what her old man and baby boy were doing as she watched.

Surrounded by the ancient Redwoods, Crescent Beach was one of five beaches located near the park. Even though it was also the most popular and had a tendency to get overcrowded during the summer, Jax had outdone himself by securing for them beachfront lodging that offered access to a private section of the beach. Aside from other guests staying at the oceanfront motel, the beach was closed off to the public, allowing some measure of privacy.

Jolene propped herself up on her arms to look for her two men and spotted them at the water's edge. Her baby Abel had loved the beach the one time she and Ronnie had managed to take him and he was having a wonderful time with his daddy. Jolene smiled as she saw the two of them chasing the waves, with a yipping Chopper at their heels as they ran into the surf.

Jolene was so engrossed in watching them that it took a minute for her to realize that she was suddenly in a shadow. Looking up from her beach chair, Jolene took in the grinning man standing over her. Seeing that he was practically leering down at her, Jolene barely managed to keep herself from rolling her eyeballs.

_Damn it! I'm on vacation and I really don't need this right now._

Unfortunately for her, the young man didn't read minds, or facial expressions for that matter, as he decided that maybe it would be a good idea to hit on her. Jolene smiled to herself, after all, she knew she was looking pretty good. The one-piece, hi-cut white swimsuit with a halter top emphasized all of the curves she had in all the right places.

After almost ruining their vacation earlier in the day by arguing over her choice of swimwear, Jolene was suddenly glad that Jax had made her take off the bikini she had initially picked out for their outing. It had been a vacation present from Donna, who insisted that Jolene would be the only woman on earth capable of pulling it off, even in her current knocked up state. Although Jax agreed that she looked hot, he wouldn't let her look out the window while wearing it, much less step outside in it.

To her old man's mind, the one she was now wearing wasn't much better, but it was the only other one she had, so he had dealt with it. All bets were off, she was sure, if Jax caught wind of the fish that the suit had managed to lure, even if it had not been her intention of reeling him in.

"Well, hello there. You are definitely too pretty to be out here all by yourself. Mind if I join you?" All hopes that the man was a reasonable and normal guy were dashed the minute he had opened his mouth. The oily tone of his voice made her skin crawl. It was obvious to her by the way he managed to flex his bulging muscles without even trying that her annoying new friend thought he was all that and a bag of chips.

Hoping to put him off before Jax noticed, Jolene flipped the towel lying next to her on the chair over her body as the man visually stripped her of her bathing suit.

"Actually, I'm not here alone."

Standing directly in front of her, the dark-haired young man with the perfect beach body smirked at her. The sun was glinting off of his silver Speedo trunks, which Jolene was sure had been chosen to display his somewhat impressive package.

"You've been sitting here all by yourself for at least the last twenty minutes. Tell me, what kind of fool would leave such a beautiful woman alone for such a long time?"

Jolene was about to reply when she heard a voice. "Daddy, who's that with Mommy?"

_Oh shit! _Jolene rubbed the bridge of her nose with her index and fore fingers. _I tried to warn ya, buddy. There's no use running now 'cause in a minute it's gonna be light's out__. Fuck! I wonder if_ _a sand dune is a good place to hide the body._

Stepping from behind the man to confront him, a totally wet and completely pissed Jackson Teller stood, holding their son in his arms, with a wet Chopper at his feet.

"Are you lost?" Jax glared at the man. "Because I can tell ya, you're not gonna find what you're looking for here."

Jolene eyes widened as she realized that a jealous and possessive Jax was way hotter than an angry Jax.

_I swear, if he takes a swing at this poor fool, I will jump on his ass right here and now, he's so fuckin' hot_!

Jolene almost burst out laughing as her new beach pal proved to be a lot brighter than he looked. He had taken one look at her old man's solid physique with his bulging muscles, coupled with the look of pure murder in his eyes and the man practically took off running.

"That's right! Move it along, asshole! Because that fat fuckin' ring on my old lady's hand isn't enough of a clue that she's not here alone!" Jax called out as Abel grinned from ear-to-ear.

Scrabbling down out of his father's hold, Abel reached out to his mother, who quickly wrapped him in a towel to dry him off. "That's another ten dollars, Daddy. That makes fifteen you owe me."

"You remembered, baby." Jolene smiled at her little squirt, as she dried his mop of blond hair that had grown quite a bit in recent months. "When did he say the first bad word?"

"When Chopper almost went out into the ocean. Daddy had to run in after him and fell flat on his face in the water." Abel giggled. "He was so mad! Didn't you see it, Mommy?"

"No, baby, I must have missed that." Jolene snorted with laughter.

Abel grinned. "If Daddy says another bad word, I'll have twenty dollars."

"As long as nobody else tries pressing up on your Mommy, Little Man, I'm afraid fifteen bucks is all you're getting out of me today." Jax finally managed a grin as he watched his old lady and son. "I think it's time we head back inside. We need to take your Mommy shopping for a new bathing suit."

* * *

Sitting in front of the fire pit Jax had set up on the beach outside their room after dinner, the Tellers were toasting marshmallows on the long branches he and Abel had collected earlier. In spite of the late hour, the sun had just set. Happy that his bedtime had been set back by an hour, Abel was enthralled with toasting and eating the hot sticky treat as he relaxed in his mother's lap.

It was the last night of their vacation and, even though they were completely relaxed and refreshed, Jolene was a little sad to see it come to an end. It had been a wonderfully idyllic week and as focused as Jax had been on Jolene getting plenty rest and relaxation, she knew that no one had needed the time away from Charming more than he did. Amazingly enough, SAMCRO's Acting President had managed to leave duty behind for seven days and nights and for that, she was glad.

Recent events had put the huge weight of responsibility on his shoulders and he had managed to protect their family and the Club virtually unscathed, aside from the emotional toll it had taken on him. Jax had needed the down time that allowed him to be nothing more than just her husband and lover and a father to their son.

Jolene smiled broadly as he seemed to pull her thoughts out of her mind when he spoke. "I really needed this, babe." Jax reached out, burying his hand in her windblown hair as he softly kissed her lips. His skin was sun-kissed and his hair bleached a shade lighter than normal by the sun.

"Just what the doctor ordered, huh, baby?"

"Absolutely. We need to do this more often." Jax smiled. "You know, before us, whenever I needed to clear my head, I would just hit the road. It always helped in getting me focused and re-energized for the work ahead. You know I love the Club, Jo, but that hasn't been enough for me for a long time. Having you and Abel, that's what I need. Being with you is what keeps me grounded. It keeps me alive, Jo."

Jolene cupped his bearded cheek and kissed him back. "You know I feel the same way, baby." She grabbed his hand and placed it on her still-flat tummy, which wouldn't say that way for long. "And once Lil' Peanut comes along, our family will be complete."

Abel, who up until that moment, his parents believed had fallen asleep, yawned hugely. "When is my baby sister coming?"

Jax reached over to grab his son from his mother's arms. "I thought I told you, Little Man. We need to root for another boy. We've gotta keep your mother in the minority."

"Oh, yeah, Daddy. I forgot." Abel let out another huge yawn.

Jolene crossed her arms as she eyed both of her men. "Well, Neeta seems sure it's gonna be a girl, so I wouldn't bet the farm just yet." She snarked.

"Miss Neeta is really smart. She might be right." Abel sat up. "But what I wanna know is _when_ is the baby coming 'cause Grandma said that the stork was gonna bring it and I don't wanna miss it."

"Uh oh, babe. I think we're treading into some dangerous territory here." Jax joked. "I think it's time for you to put that big brain of yours to work and come up with an explanation."

"Chicken." Jolene muttered.

"Buck-bah," Jax imitated a chicken with a shit-eating grin.

"Come here, baby." Jolene cooed as Abel crawled back into her lap. "Grandma was just teasing, Abel. A stork won't be bringing the baby."

Abel looked up at his mother with a frown on his face. "Then how's it getting here?"

"Well," Jolene started. "Your little sister—"

"Or brother—" Jax added.

"Will grow inside of Mommy."

"Inside?"

"Yes, that's right." Jolene pointed to her stomach. "The baby's here right now.

Abel looked at his mother with narrowed, skeptical eyes. "How did it get in there?"

Jax coughed. Loudly.

Rolling her eyes at Jax, Jolene giggled. "Daddy gave it to me."

"_He did_?" Abel said as his father started a violent coughing fit after almost inhaling a scalding hot marshmallow.

"That's right. Right now, the baby is very, very small, just like a tiny little seed, but soon, it's gonna start growing and my belly will start getting bigger as well."

"Really, REALLY, big, Abel." Jax managed to contribute before his coughing started all over again.

"Oh, I get it. Just like the flowers me and Grandma made for you. We put the seeds in the dirt and put water on it and then it grew and got big." Abel said triumphantly.

Jolene smiled proudly as Abel made the connection. "Yeah, just like that, honey. Just like those beautiful flowers, it will take some time, but after a while, the baby will be big enough to be born."

"Will it need an operation like I did and stay in the hospital a really long time?" Abel asked, his eyes round with worry and concern.

At that, Jax and Jolene looked at each other, with tears about to spring from her eyes.

Finally, Jax spoke up. "We hope not, Little Man, but Mommy's been to the doctor and you and I are going to make sure we take really good care of her."

Abel smiled. "Okay, but I still don't understand how you gave Mommy the baby."

Jax smiled as he reached over and tousled his boy's hair. "I know, son, and I'll explain it all to you, I promise. Just not tonight."


	21. Baby Mama Drama

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy****.**

* * *

"Mommy!" Abel shook his mother's shoulder hard. "Mommy, it's time to go!"

Bleary-eyed, Jolene raised a hand to rub the sleep from her eyes as she gazed on the excited face of her son.

Abel Teller stood next to the bed, the early morning sun from the French doors off the balcony dimly lighting the darkened room. Wearing a pair of jeans, white sneakers, and a black Incredible Hulk t-shirt with a white long-sleeved shirt underneath, Abel had on a small backpack and was holding his brand new lunchbox. Not to be left behind, Chopper was excitedly wagging his tail at Abel's side.

"We gots to hurry, Mommy, or we gonna be late."

"Abel, baby," Jolene smiled ruefully at his eager little face. "It's 6:00 in the morning. School doesn't start until 8:30."

"But I don't want to be late." The little boy protested.

"Little Man, you're as anal as your mother." Suddenly, Abel found himself being lifted in the air by his father's strong arm and he was quickly settled in between his two parents, while Chopper leapt onto the foot of the bed and settled himself comfortably.

"What's 'anal', Daddy?" Abel looked up at Jax, his little head tilted to the side.

"It's another word for crazy." Jax replied sheepishly as his old lady gave him the stink eye.

"But Mommy's not crazy." Abel spoke up in defense of his mother.

Jolene kissed the top of her son's head. "Thank you, baby." Removing his backpack, lunchbox and sneakers, Jolene caressed the top of his newly cut hair, which, despite the trim he got at Floyd's, was still rather curly. "Besides, baby, Miss Neeta is coming in early to fix you a special breakfast and see you off to school. Don't you worry. We'll get there in plenty of time."

* * *

"That was really good, Miss Neeta. You only make pancakes on Saturday." Abel beamed up at Neeta as he brought his plate over to her by the sink.

"Well, this here is a special occasion." Neeta grinned at her little charge. "And I got a real nice lunch for you, too." Exchanging Abel's dirty plate for his lunchbox, she continued. "There's a nice tuna salad sandwich, some chips, grapes and milk. I also put three of your favorite double chocolate chip cookies in there."

"Hey!" Clay said as he spooned up some oatmeal. "That's an awful lot of cookies for one kid."

"Don't be jealous, old man. One cookie is for Abel to eat, another to give to a classmate he would like to make friends with, and the other one is for his teacher."

"You trying to turn my kid into a kiss-up, Neeta?" Jax grinned as he tucked into a breakfast of ham and eggs.

"I prefer the term 'Teacher's Pet'. Ain't nobody gonna treat my baby bad on his first day." Neeta bent over and dropped a kiss on Abel's head.

"They sure as hell better not." Gemma chuffed as she finished her cup of coffee. "I have no problem using my foot to drop-kick some bully rugrat." Gemma headed to her bedroom to retrieve her handbag.

"Is she losing her touch that she's gotta use her foot nowadays?" Jolene playfully elbowed her husband.

"Yeah, I remember a time she could stop a kid's heart with an icy glare." Jax kidded.

"I heard that!" Gemma called out even though she was out of view.

"Now remember what I told you, Abel," Neeta started as she helped him put on his backpack. "You be nice to everybody and everybody will be nice to you, but if somebody steps out of line, just remember, you ain't no punk, got it?"

Abel nodded. "Got it." Reaching up he hugged the older woman and then grabbed his lunchbox from the table. "Okay, Mommy. It's time to go."

* * *

Pulling into the parking lot of Charming Elementary School, Jolene wasn't sure if what she felt was excitement, trepidation, or both. His first day of school was a huge and very important milestone for Abel. There had been a time when Jolene, fearful that he would not survive the circumstances of his birth, had been afraid to plan for his life beyond his first birthday. For that fact alone, today was a joyful day. With Abel in the clear regarding his health, Jolene was grateful that, like other young parents, she and Jax could now feel comfortable planning for their son's future, even if their individual plans were as different as the couple themselves.

But Jolene still had some very real concerns for Abel. As much as she had loved school growing up, Jolene had had her share of difficulty adjusting. Jolene, along with Thomas Teller, had been home-schooled by Gemma since her arrival in Charming. Her first day of school after Tommy had passed away had been a shock to the system, to say the least. As the new kid in school starting with the year already half-way through, she had not made any friends and felt isolated by the other students. Jolene soon learned that it wasn't her "new kid" status that was keeping other children away, but ignorance and fear regarding who and what her father was and the infamous company she kept—town terrors Jax Teller and Opie Winston—that prevented kids her own age from getting to know her as just a regular kid. Thanks to her father's fiery temper whenever trouble found its way to young Jolene, she quickly became known as "that biker brat." She could only hope that Abel's experience wouldn't mimic her own.

Exiting the car, Abel looked around, taking in as much as he could of his new environment. Children of varying ages, sizes and colors were practically pouring out of cars and school buses and running towards the red-bricked school.

Gemma stood next to Jolene as she looked at the teeming crowd. "Boy, does this bring back memories. And not good ones either." She snarked.

"Why, Grandma?"

Gemma bent down to look her grandson in the eye. "Well, let's just say that your daddy and Uncle Opie weren't exactly perfect little angels like you."

"What about my Mommy?"

Gemma laughed. "Abel, the stories I could tell you. You wouldn't know it by looking at her now, but your mother was known as the notorious Nut—" Gemma started, but Jolene interrupted.

"As a _notoriously good student_," Jolene eyed her mother-in-law with a scowl. "Just like I know you're going to be, baby." She cooed at her son.

Straightening up, Gemma muttered to her own son, who was chuckling under his breath, "I guess some people don't have a problem rewriting history."

"You excited, Little Man?" Abel looked up to smile at his father.

"Yeah, Daddy." Abel thought his father was the biggest and the tallest of all the other men who were at the school and he was proud of him. Jax Teller made a pretty impressive figure, riding into the lot behind Jolene's Mustang wearing his cut and a pair of shades, the muscles of his upper body straining the white short-sleeved t-shirt he was wearing. With Jolene wearing a figure-hugging red wrap dress and black high heels, they made a distinctly contrasting, yet striking pair. And the men on the premises weren't the only ones tripping over themselves as they took notice.

Jolene was cautiously eyeing a pretty young woman as she approached her family, noting that the woman's eyes were currently riveted on her husband before finally making their way down to her son.

Abel looked up at the woman with caramel colored-skin and short dark hair. Flashing the patented Teller smile, Abel said, "Hi! Are you my teacher?"

The young woman's hazel eyes twinkled. "I might be, handsome. What's your name?"

"I'm Abel Teller. And this is my Mommy and Daddy and Grandma."

"It is really nice meeting you and your family, Abel. My name is Miss Brenda and you are in my class."

"My Mommy is a teacher too." Abel replied.

Reaching out to shake the younger woman's hand, Jolene smiled, letting her guard down somewhat. "That's right, but my monsters are a lot bigger than yours. I teach math at Excelsior Prep."

"Oh my, you are certainly brave." She smiled kindly before quickly shifting her attention to Jax. "I don't believe we've met." Miss Brenda extended her hand towards Jax.

Jax tried to mask the smirk playing on his lips as he stole a glance at his old lady. Jolene was smiling, but her eyes told a completely different story. "Jax Teller." He introduced himself as he shook her hand.

Jax almost laughed out loud as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jolene's hip cock as she crossed her arms. Miss Brenda was taking longer than was socially acceptable to shake his hand and he could tell it was driving his wife insane.

"It's very nice to meet you." Miss Brenda directed at Jax. "Is Abel riding home on the school bus or will you be picking him up?" She asked, once again, addressing Jax.

"My Grandma is picking me up." Abel chimed in happily, not wanting to be left out of the conversation.

"That's great." The young teacher said, the disappointment evident, or at least it was to Jolene. "Well, there are a lot of children for you to meet." Miss Brenda replied, pointing to group of about ten children waiting with another young woman. "That's my aide, Miss Mandy. We're going to have a lot of fun."

Without hesitation or fear, Abel took hold of his teacher's hand and followed her towards his classmates.

"I'm his Grandma, by the way!" Gemma called out sarcastically with an exaggerated wave, irked—right along with Jolene—that she was practically ignored.

Miss Brenda turned along with Abel and at least had the decency to look contrite as Abel waved to his family. "Bye Mommy and Daddy! Bye Grandma!" Abel yelled as he headed towards the front door. "And bye Peanut!"

* * *

Jolene was dying to get home, her lead foot heavy on the gas as she peeled through her neighborhood in her effort to get home as quickly as possible, anxious to hear how her baby's first day went.

It was only her first day back to school as well and Jolene was already starting to feel the guilt of all working mothers. With Pre-K being only four hours a day, Jolene wanted to be there when Abel got out of school, but had been dragged into a faculty meeting when she should have been taking her lunch. Luckily, with the first day of classes at Excelsior being a half day, Jolene would hopefully get home shortly after 1:00 and in time to hear a first-hand account of her son's day.

Pulling into the driveway of the Teller homestead, Jolene looked down into her lap and smiled as she rubbed her belly. The recently-popped baby bump that was only slightly visible when she was standing up looked huge from her vantage point when sitting down. Although she would gladly relinquish her title as the hottest teacher in Excelsior Prep in favor of being a mommy again, her insecurities and low self-esteem had her wondering how Jax would react as her waist line continued to expand.

Determined to keep any negative thoughts from creeping in, Jolene finally hopped out of her car and slammed the door. Heading into her home, she could already hear her son's sweet voice, followed by peals of laughter from his grandparents and Neeta.

_Looks like my little boy has inherited the SAMCRO man's ability to tell a good story._

"Hey, baby girl, looks like our boy here is already working the Teller magic!" Clay crowed at his daughter as she entered the kitchen.

Sitting on his grandfather's knee, Abel grinned at his mother and held up his arms. "Hi, Mommy!"

Scooping him up and peppering his face and neck with kisses as he giggled, Jolene thoroughly eyeballed her baby.

"You look none the worse for wear." Jolene smiled. In fact, Abel was literally sparkling with excitement, eager to tell his mother about his day. "How was school today, baby? Did you have lots of fun?"

"Uh huh." Abel nodded his head emphatically. "Lots and lots of fun. I got to work on the computer and played with the girls and—"

"Notice he said the 'girls'," Gemma snarked as Neeta laughed.

"What about the boys?" Jolene tried not to laugh.

"I played wit them too, but John didn't like me too much 'cause I gave one of my cookies to Jenna."

_Uh oh, here we go_, Jolene smiled to herself. "And who's Jenna?"

"She sits next to me at my table and her cubbyhole is next to mine, too. She's so pretty, Mommy. She's got red hair."

"Nice! So my son's got a thing for redheads?" Jolene looked up to see her old man leaning in the kitchen doorway.

"Hey, baby. I didn't know you were coming home early, too."

Sauntering across the room, Jax dropped a lingering kiss on his wife. First day of school still sucked like he remembered. Only this time, it was because he had sorely missed his old lady and son.

"Everything's under control down at T-M." Jax grabbed Abel out of her arms and winked at his son. "I wanted to hear how Abel's day went, too. Looks like he at least learned one thing today. He likes red hair."

Abel nodded his head. "Yeah, but I like hair like Mommy's too. That's why I gave _my_ cookie to Becca."

"Who's Becca?" Neeta asked as she placed a platter of cheese and crackers on the table.

"She sits at my table too. She likes me, so I had to give her a cookie. I gave the other one to Miss Brenda. Miss Neeta, I'm going to need another cookie tomorrow to give to Miss Mandy. She's my other teacher."

Jolene snorted with laughter. "Neeta, something tells me you'll be doing a whole lot of baking this school year."

* * *

In the privacy of her classroom, Jolene Teller indulged herself with a full-body stretch, raising her arms high above her head as she writhed and twisted her body to work out the kinks from standing on her feet all morning. Ending her stretch with an unlady-like gaping-mouth yawn, Jolene rested her hands on the small bump on her midsection, which announced to all who saw her coming that she was no longer traveling solo.

Even though she was enjoying a healthier and happier pregnancy this time around, thanks in part to her new meds and a loving, yet slightly obsessed old man, Jolene still wasn't feeling 100%. No matter how much sleep she got, and lately she had been hitting the sack as early as Abel, she couldn't shake her constant tiredness.

"You are wearing me out, Lil' Peanut," Jolene smiled as she rubbed her belly. "But we'll keep that little bit of Intel from Daddy for the time being." Especially since it had been a minor miracle that she had managed to get out of the house that morning. Unhappy with her color, Jax had insisted that she take the day off and stay home. Except for her need to sleep sixteen hours a day, Jolene felt fine and was not about to ruin the perfect attendance record she's had since she started teaching again. She felt bad enough that she wouldn't be finishing the school year with her students once the baby was born.

Fortunately, Jolene had been able to distract him.

Almost at the end of her second trimester, Jolene felt that she outranked her husband in terms of knowing her own body and what it was capable of. She had no intention of bringing any harm to herself or their baby, so he was going to have to trust her or they would spend the rest of her pregnancy butting heads. And with her hormones kicking in big time, the last thing she wanted was to spend all of their alone time arguing because, Lord knows, Donna wasn't kidding about pregnant sex.

Plopping herself down in the swivel chair in her classroom, Jolene swung her feet onto the neat little desk and decided that, instead of using her lunch period to eat, she would take a little cat nap before her next class.

After a drama-filled summer, it was a relief to be back to the routine she had set for herself at Excelsior Prep. For a while, Jolene had started to believe that a normal life for her and Jax would always include some sort of turmoil and, maybe that was still true. After all, Jax and every man who meant anything to her at all were outlaws. Some new crisis could always threaten their happiness, but they had been through too much together to let anything steal it away.

With the Club finally at peace and her father on the road to a full recovery, Jolene could now focus on carrying the precious little life inside of her to term.

From the moment she had found out that her old man had knocked her up again, Jolene had tried her best to remain positive that being with her loving family would make all the difference in the world and that, unlike with Abel, this pregnancy would be smooth sailing. Although not as severe, Jolene had already been subjected to the near-strangling love and concern that her family had for her during her recovery after she had been shot more than five years ago, and her old man was proving to be the worst offender thus far.

Jolene loved Jax to the point that she knew she couldn't live without him, so she could only hope that he would relax a little or she was going to kill him!

* * *

Stopping abruptly at the doorway of her classroom, Jax's heart literally fell to the pit of his stomach when he first caught sight of his old lady. Lying horizontal in a prone position in a chair, Jolene was very still, and in the minimal lighting of the room, she looked as pale as death.

Quickly striding towards her, Jax let out a small sigh of relief when he noticed the steady rise and fall of her chest. But the fact that Jolene was napping in the middle of the day did not still well with him.

This morning, Jolene had accused him of overreacting and of generally being a pain in the ass when he insisted that she call in sick, but Jax knew his old lady. Even though she swore that she was feeling fine, there was something off with her normally golden complexion and she looked like she could use a few more hours of sleep. But Jolene had him wrapped around her little finger and he had given in to her pleas that he let her go because she was fine enough to work.

_Technique-wise, it was more than just her finger as the hand job she sprung on me had gone a long way in changing my mind._

But even as he tried to go on with his day, Jax still couldn't escape the persistent, nagging feeling that Jolene wasn't as well as she made herself out to be. In order to ease his mind, Jax had decided to leave Tig and Half Sack working on the latest gun shipment at Bluebird while he came back to Charming to check up on her. And it was a good thing he had, too.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave his old lady a gentle shake.

"Um, what?" Jolene blinked her eyes blearily and looked up into the cold hard flinty blue-eyed stare of her old man.

_Oh shit!_

Trying to sound alert, Jolene managed to bring her feet down from her desk and sit up in her chair. "Hey, baby. What are you doing here?"

"I'm checking up on you. What are _you_ doing?"

Jolene decided that the best offense was defense. "What does it look like?" She challenged. "I'm just taking a little nap. It's no big deal, Jackson."

"See, you're trying to feed me a line of bullshit, Jo." She only used his given name when trying to get one over on him. "You told me you were fine enough to go to work, yet here you are, passed out." Jax growled.

"I was NOT passed out." Jolene tried to rein in her growing anger. "I was just taking a power nap before my next class. And you need to stop nagging me." She retorted.

"Nagging you?" The ire in Jax's voice was becoming apparent, but Jolene, in her half-asleep state, didn't quite notice.

"Yes, nagging. I am perfectly capable of assessing my own well-being." Jolene stood up to make her next point, but she never got the chance.

Because, quite suddenly, Jolene's world spun on its axis and went black.

* * *

Jackson Teller made an intimidating picture as he escorted his wife down the hallway with a firm grip around her shoulders. Jolene gritted her teeth and tried not to look like a sack of potatoes being forcibly dragged down the hallway, grateful that he hadn't made good on his threat of throwing her over his shoulder if she didn't hurry her ass up.

When Jolene had come to, she found herself lying flat on her back and looking up into Jax's anxious face.

"What the fuck just happened?" She croaked.

"You just passed the fuck out, that's what happened." The SAMCRO Acting President tried not to show how panicked he actually was as he noted her flushed cheeks and sweaty brow. "I am so done with you thinking you can fool me with this superwoman act, Jo. I knew something was wrong this morning and I should've listened to my gut." Grabbing the bottle of water that was sitting on the corner of her desk, Jax held it to her lips as she protested.

"Stop it!" She whined as she pushed the bottle away. "I'm pregnant, not stupid. I haven't forgotten how to drink water all by myself. I can go potty too, you know."

The whining was a _bad move_, Jolene quickly realized, as she saw his jaw clench.

"That's it! Don't say another fuckin' word." Jax said, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm taking you to St. Thomas. Right. Now."

Her stubborn pissiness was why Jolene currently found herself being hustled out of her classroom and down the hall towards the exit, only barely escaping with at least a tiny bit of her pride intact as classes were still in session.

Unfortunately, much like all of her reprieves as of late, that one was short-lived as well.

As they exited the teacher's elevator and turned the corner to make their way to the main entrance of the school, the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. Suddenly, the hallways were flooded with students and teachers alike—and in the case of the female students and faculty—all starry-eyed and out of breath seeing the sexy blond biker practically dragging his wife out of the building, making a ginormous spectacle of them both.

"Jax!" Jolene hissed. "I can't just leave without letting someone know."

Indicating all the gawkers that stopped as they cut a path through them, Jax smirked. "Looks like everybody knows you're leaving, darlin'." Jolene tried to squirm her way out of his hold as they approached the school's main office. She had to let someone know. "Don't!" Jax warned as he stopped ever so briefly. "Or I will carry you out, Jo."

Seeing the Head of the English Lit Department staring at her husband, Jolene managed to snag her attention away from him to herself. "Deidre, can you please let the Assistant Vice Principal know that I'm leaving for the day?"

The woman, seeing that Jax was not stopping to allow Jolene to talk, ran alongside to keep up with the couple. "Sure, no problem. Is everything okay?" She asked with concern in her voice.

"It's no big deal. I'm just going for a quick check up at St. Thomas. I'll be back tomorrow."

"I wouldn't count on that, Deidre." Jax contradicted as his nostrils flared slightly.

Watching the couple walk out of the school and head towards Jolene's car, Deidre let out a dreamy sigh.

"That sexy beast can drag my ass off anywhere, anytime!"

* * *

Sitting in Dr. Namid's office in the maternity ward in the East wing of St. Thomas, Jax tried to get his Restless Leg Syndrome under control while waiting to hear what the doctor had to say.

Sitting behind his desk, Dr. Namid smiled at his irritable patient and her even more irritable husband. "First off, let me start by reassuring you both that what happened is not at all unusual."

Turning to her old man, Jolene crossed her arms under her chest. "Told you." She started triumphantly, but the doctor held up his hand.

"May I continue, please?"

As Jolene subsided meekly, Jax smiled to himself. Anybody that could keep his old lady in check and keep her from talking back, especially when she was hell bent on justifying her bad behavior, was his personal hero.

"I am happy to report that the heart scan and blood work have ruled out your heart condition as the cause of this episode. It is not uncommon for pregnant women to feel woozy and sometimes even pass out when they change positions suddenly, especially while trying to get up after lying on your back. The weight of your expanding midsection can put pressure on the vena cava slowing the circulation of de-oxygenated blood. Changing positions suddenly can cause the sudden rush of blood to make you feel off-balance." Dr. Namid explained. "Now, from what you described, Mr. Teller, it sounds like that is exactly what happened, but other factors can also cause fainting spells, especially during pregnancy."

The doctor opened Jolene's file and examined the notes made by his nurse. "Low blood pressure and anemia are usually the likely suspects and, unfortunately, Jolene, you have both. Have you been taking your pre-natal vitamins?"

"Everyday." Jax piped up as both Jolene and Dr. Namid turned to look at him. "I make sure she takes them."

"Because, apparently, I'm incapable of opening a pill bottle as well." Jolene muttered under her breath.

"That's good," Dr. Namid replied. "Keep doing that and I will prescribe an additional iron supplement. Patients on blood thinners have a tendency to develop anemia, but it can also be caused by a poor diet. Tell me, how have your eating habits been since your last visit?"

Before answering, Jolene bit her lip as her shoulders tensed up a little, which Jax was quick to notice. "Okay, I guess." She hedged.

"You _guess_?" Jax snapped, causing Jolene to look at him with wide eyes.

"I eat." Jolene defended herself. "When I'm hungry."

"And just how many times a day are you 'hungry'?" The doctor was able to ask before Jax jumped in.

Jolene squirmed a little in her chair. "I eat a couple of times a day."

The doctor eyed his patient with a raised eyebrow. "Jolene, I know you're not one of those women who diet during pregnancy in order to maintain their figure, right?"

"Of course not, Dr. Namid, I would never do that," Jolene replied, truly shocked. "It's just—well—sometimes I forget to eat because I'm just not all that hungry and I'd rather sleep instead." She did her best to avoid her husband's narrow gaze.

"That stops today, Jolene." Dr. Namid admonished. "Your baby is depending on you for its nutrition. If you're not eating regular meals, the baby will take what it needs from you, leaving you tired and suffering from anemia. Also, at this stage in your pregnancy, you should be gaining weight, not losing."

"She lost weight?" Jax was stunned.

"Five pounds."

"Five pounds?" Both Jax and Jolene said simultaneously, with Jax looking at his old lady like he wanted to twist her neck until her head popped off.

"When was your last meal today?" The doctor asked.

Suddenly, the thought of sharing every moment of her pregnancy with Jax was starting to lose its shine. With Dr. Namid helping her dig herself into a deeper and deeper grave, Jolene was considering ditching Jax for her next check up.

Jolene sighed. "This morning."

"Holy shit, Jo! It's after two." Jax thundered. Jolene opened her mouth to argue, but one raised ringed-finger was all it took for her to snap it shut. "Don't say it 'cause I already _know_ you know how to tell time."

Dr. Namid tried to hide his smile as the couple sat locked in a staring contest, one as stubborn as the other, refusing to be the first to look away.

"It's not like I lost the weight on purpose, Jax."

"You might as well have with the way you're taking care of yourself." Jax countered.

"Well, I didn't." Jolene said petulantly as she crossed her arms again and turned to face Dr. Namid. "What do I need to do, Doctor?"

"She needs to regain the weight, right?" Jax asked.

"Yes, but it doesn't mean you stuff her like a Thanksgiving turkey. She needs to gain healthy weight, which is why I want you to speak to the nutritionist on staff here before you leave. Because of the anemia, she will probably recommend a protein-rich diet, but because you are taking blood thinners, you need to stay away from green leafy vegetables which might thin your blood too much." Dr. Namid started. "At this point, I'm sure you're past morning sickness, so you should be eating five to six small but calorie-dense meals a day, not empty calories either, so stay away from overly processed and sugary foods."

"I'll be eating all day long." Jolene protested.

"Which will go a long way in keeping your blood sugar levels up and hopefully prevent you from passing out again. And until I get the results of some other tests, I want you off of your feet as much as possible."

"Doctor, I teach high school—" Jolene began.

"And they don't have chairs in your school?" The doctor looked at her with a teasing glint in his eye. "Look, Jolene, I normally encourage mothers-to-be to remain as active as possible, but with your history, it's best that we set stringent limits now and gradually ease up a little as you continue to make progress. And that means NO MORE WEIGHT LOSS. Are we are the same page?" He asked and Jolene nodded mutely.

Looking over at her old man, Jolene knew she was better off toeing the line with as little resistance as possible because the expression on Jax's face, while unspoken, pretty much said it all.

_Do as the doctor orders or have to deal with one pissed off biker!_

* * *

"Okay, Frick and Frack." Jax eyed his two partners-in-crime as he sat down in his chair in his man cave. "I never thought it would come to this, but I'm gonna need your help."

It was an early fall Saturday evening and Jax had just returned to Charming from a quick run to Eureka with Opie and Juice earlier in the day. With Clay, Bobby, Chibs, Phil, and Abel setting themselves up in the living room to watch the fight on pay-per-view, Jolene had gone upstairs to take a long relaxing bath. Not knowing that Jax was home, her plan was to spend some time preparing for a pop quiz she planned on springing on her students on Monday.

Jax realized that his old lady's absence was the perfect opportunity to fill in his mother and her friend on Jolene's last visit with Dr. Namid and what he needed them to do. But it seemed that the two women were intent on pulling his chain good and hard first.

Neeta crossed her arms under her chest. "You have any idea who we are dealing with here?" She snarked. "Your old lady has little patience for busy bodies sticking their noses into what she considers her personal business."

"Excuse me," Gemma interrupted. "But that's not the only problem. I specifically recall how on several occasions, the last being your wedding day, you spelled out in under no uncertain terms, you and only you had the right to lay down the law with _your_ old lady, so why come to me now?" Gemma eyed her son. "The SAMCRO Princess is not as easy a ride as you anticipated, huh?"

"Nope!" Neeta chimed in before Jax could open his mouth. "Plus, he doesn't want to end up riding the couch down here neither by playing bad cop. That's where you come in, _Drill Sarge._"

Seeing her son's eyes widen at his old nickname for her, Gemma raised an eyebrow. "What? Did you really think I didn't know what you kids called me behind my back? Baby, get real. I will outsmart you from the grave."

Jax sighed as he rubbed his temple as Gemma did her best to hide a grin. _Hah. He didn't really think he was going to get off that easy, did he?_ Gemma loved her son dearly, but the times that she could yank on his chain were few and far between now. Therefore she considered it her right to put her boot up his ass whenever the rare opportunity presented itself.

"Look, bottom line, Jo now knows how important it is to take care of herself, but things are picking up again for SAMCRO and I can't be around all the time. I'm not asking you to do my job for me because I can take care of my old lady, a'ight?" He said defensively. "I just need you guys to step in when if it looks like she's getting a little forgetful and is about to go off the reservation. Ma, you know exactly what I mean, so stop twisting the knife."

Imitating her housekeeper-companion, Gemma threw her hands up in the air with a look of mock astonishment on her face. "Hey, I'm just reminding you of the boundaries that _you_ set in stone. I'm sure you're right and now that she's had the fear of God put in her, she'll probably do the right thing, but in case she doesn't, I want to be absolutely clear—if you are going to take the leash off us two pit bulls, your ass better not start _whining_ about it when we start biting, that's all."

"What I want to know is whether or not this new title of Baby Mama watchdog comes with some sort of combat pay," Neeta chimed in. "'Cause the SUV parked in your driveway don't count. That was long overdue for my trials and tribulations for dealing with this one." Neeta pointed a thumb at Gemma. "This here is some new shit."

"Yes, yes, of course. Now, are you two done yet?" _Thank God my brothers can't see me cowering in front of these two. They'd strip my patch._

Gemma and Neeta both looked at each other. "Yeah, I think we're good. You just better be ready to back our asses up when your woman starts getting uppity." Neeta crossed her arms. "Cause she _will_ get uppity."

"Believe me, between the two of us, Clay, Bobby, Donna and the rest of the crew, we should be able to keep her in line." Gemma declared.

Neeta suddenly smiled. "We won't need to pull all those innocent souls into duty. All we need to do is employ our secret weapon and we'll have Jolene eating out of the palm of our hands."

As all three looked at one another they all answered with one voice.

"Abel!"

* * *

Not only was Jax a patch member of the Sons of Anarchy for 12 years, but he had served time in prison. Twice. And not only has he seen some bloody shit go down, but more often than not, he had been the instigator of bloody shit storms and had the patch to prove it.

_I have seen the bloodiest shit imaginable_, Jax thought as he nearly swallowed his tongue as his eyes focused on the 50" flat screen on the wall. _But none of that has prepared me for this!_

Sitting on the large comfortable sofa in the family room, Jax did his best to keep the contents of his stomach from revisiting the surface while his mother, his wife, and her best friend made ooh-ing and ahh-ing sounds as they watched the miracle of birth in HD.

_God, how much longer is this shit gonna last? I should have listened to Ope._

After their last check up with Dr. Namid, the doctor had suggested the Tellers watch a few birthing videos so that Jax could prepare for what he would experience in less than twelve weeks.

He had never thought of his old lady as the misery-loves-company type, but Jolene thought it would be a great idea for the whole family to gather—minus their son—in order to watch the video together. She had initially suggested watching it on Clay's TV, but her father had quickly put his foot down.

"You ain't watching that shit in here." Clay said. "I'd just as soon keep believing that the stork brought you into the world, baby girl."

Clay loved his grandson and he could hardly wait for the new one to arrive, but he had no interest in an up close and personal view of the birthing process, not at his age. His heart couldn't take it.

Instead, the older man had grabbed his grandson and Filthy Phil to play one of Abel's favorite board games at the kitchen table.

At first, it hadn't been too bad. _At first_. But as the birthing progressed and Jax swore that he literally saw the woman's head spinning around like Linda Blair from the Exorcist, he started fading fast.

"_Girl_, how quick did you give birth again?" Donna asked, her eyes riveted on the screen as she shoved a handful of Jolene's homemade spicy and buttery popcorn in her mouth.

"_Girl_, once my water broke in Ronnie's hallway, Abel popped out like a cork out of a bottle of champagne about an hour later." Jolene said almost gleefully as she eyed her slightly-green faced old man. "I was supposed to have a C-Section, but there was no time."

"_Girl_, that shit happens a lot." Gemma hooted. "Or so I heard because, unfortunately, it didn't happen to me. When I went into labor with Jax, we had just moved to Charming and we didn't own a cage. Good thing Wayne was at the Clubhouse and he gave me a ride to St. Thomas in his squad car 'cause there was no way I was getting there on JT's bike. And after the fuss that my water breaking early caused, I was in labor with this little shithead for 12 hours before he finally decided to join the land of the living."

Donna snorted. "Oh, I'm sorry, but 12 hours ain't shit! Try being in labor for 18 frickin' hours with Ellie's big head stuck in your cervix. Fool that I was, I wanted a natural child birth. I didn't know shit until that first _real_pain hit!" Gemma and Jolene were screeching with laughter as Donna continued. "There I was, hollering and screaming for drugs and Opie was like, 'Come on, baby, you can do it. You've got child-bearing hips!' I tell ya, I almost got up outta bed and knocked his ass onto the floor!"

Pouring another glass of pinot noir from the more than half-empty supersized bottle she and Gemma had consumed, the more than slightly inebriated woman took a large gulp, and continued. "I finally pushed them two boogers out and then after he cut the umbilical cord, my old man, the big bad biker, went down like a fuckin' Redwood tree, smack dab in the middle of the delivery room."

"What?" Gemma, Jolene _and_ Jax yelled.

Donna, with an empty wine glass in one hand, clapped her other hand over her mouth. "Oh shit! I wasn't supposed to share that bit of Intel."

Jax nearly fell off the couch laughing. "Ope?" He gasped. "Fuckin' fainted?" Howls of laughter filled the room.

"Look, you can't tell him I said that. I swore I would take that shit to my grave." Donna pleaded as her BFF nearly rolled off the couch herself.

"I'm sorry, D. You are my bestie for life, but all bets are off. This shit's too good not to share!" Snorting like a pig from the laughter, Jolene managed to point to the screen. "Hey, here it comes."

Jax wished he hadn't looked.

The high-definition 1080 pixel screen displayed the event in all of its bloody glory. With a close up shot of the woman's lady bits stretched beyond recognition, a wet bloody and slippery wailing mass of arms and legs with a head the size of a cantaloupe suddenly slipped out from between the woman's legs and into the waiting hands of the doctor.

_Oh! My! God! I may never have sex again._

Jax sat horrified as the SAMCRO women screamed and hollered with excitement.

"That was awesome!" Jolene clapped her hands excitedly. "Wasn't that beautiful, baby?" She cuddled up against her old man.

"Yeah," Jax mumbled and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Awesome."

Gemma smiled as she noted her son's pale face. "Great. Now let's watch the C-Section one since that's what Jolene is going to end up having this time around."

_We're going to watch them cut some woman's belly open? _

"You know Gem, I have to talk with Dr. Namid. I really hope he can avoid messing up my crow tat. It would be a shame if he has to cut through it."

"Sweetheart, by the time you're ready to pop, that crow tat's gonna be the size of a California Condor!" Gemma snarked as Jolene first glared at her mother-in-law and then, in spite of herself, bubbled over with laughter as Donna imitated the bird with the nearly ten-foot wingspan.

"Bitches!" Jolene declared. As Jax warily watched his old lady get up to change the DVD, someone decided to have mercy on his soul as he felt his pre-pay vibrate in his pocket.

Grabbing at the phone, Jax didn't even bother to find out who was on the other end of the line. "Okay, I'll be right there. I said I'll be at the Clubhouse in 15." Closing his phone with a snap, Jax got up and placed a hasty kiss on his old lady's lips. "Sorry, darlin', but I have to run. Club business."

"Oh, but baby, you're gonna miss out on the best part. We can wait 'til you get back." Jolene grinned as she saw the disconcerting look on her old man's face.

"No, babe. You go ahead. I'll watch it some other time." Quickly heading to the door, Jax practically ran as if the dogs of war were chasing him.

"That was fun." Jolene said snarkily, managing to do a fair imitation of a football victory dance in her condition.

"You and your passive-aggressive shit. You are a wicked, wicked woman." Donna piped up, causing all three women to holler with laughter.


	22. SAMCRO Baby

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**A/N: Is it a boy or a girl? Read on and see for yourselves. As always, if you read, please review.**

**Enjoy!**

Sons of Anarchy  
Season 3  
Episode 13 - "NS"

**This Charming Life by Joan Armatrading**

I wanna be with you all the time  
Every day  
Every night  
You're my deja vu

Its sounds obsessive  
But I think its fine  
When you're gone all I do is to think of you

I live and love with you  
This charming life

I live and love with you  
This charming life

You know you came into the room alone  
But when you left  
Then I found that you took my heart  
It sounds so corny yes I know it does  
But truth is the shade that I choose to wear

I live and love with you  
This charming life

I live and love with you  
This charming life

Every government must pass down a law  
That says the sun has to always shine  
That everybody gets the chance to say

I live and love with you  
This charming life

I live and love with you  
This charming life

Every morning when I open my eyes  
You're the first thing that I see  
Lady luck she really took to me

Because  
I live and love with you  
This charming life

I live and love with you  
This charming life

* * *

Jolene had long since resigned herself to feeling quite unsexy no matter what she was wearing. The oversized hospital gown currently draped over her like a circus tent wasn't doing much to boost her self-esteem either. The only person in the world she had ever stressed over looking good for was her old man, with today being particularly stressful for her as she was currently spread out on an examination table in one of Dr. Namid's consultation rooms like a beached whale.

Jax, however, didn't seem to notice, especially if the little detour they had made earlier to his Clubhouse dorm when they should have been on their way to her doctor's appointment was anything to go by. Jolene watched her old man with raised eyebrows as he gently massaged her naked and basketball-round belly in slow, wide circles with a look of intense concentration on his handsome face.

_He looks like he's about to start chanting any second now_,Jolene's choked snicker came out as a loud pig snort.

Jax lifted an eyebrow. "What's so funny, darlin'?"

"Nothing, baby." Jolene smiled. "I think you can stop now. The baby's not kicking around so much anymore."

Jax smiled as he came face-to-face with Jolene and dropped a lingering kiss on her mouth. "That had to be the freakiest shit I've ever seen in my life." He was slightly awestruck, referring to the way her otherwise rigid-looking bump had contorted as the baby wriggled around earlier. At one point, Jolene's belly had expanded sideways by what had to be one of the baby's limbs pushing against it.

"Yeah, I think it's getting a little cramped in there." Jolene lovingly ran her hand over Jax's bearded cheek before he grabbed it and kissed her palm. "Peanut's probably having as much trouble as me trying to find a comfortable position. Help me up, baby."

Jax quickly positioned himself so that Jolene could lean against him as he slid one arm around her shoulders and gently pushed her up into a sitting position on the examination table. "You look tired, Jo."

"That's because I am." Jolene replied and quickly covered Jax's mouth before he could start bitching at her. "You try getting some decent sleep while carrying a rambunctious Teller spawn who insists on ramming itself up under your ribs as it simultaneously sits on your bladder. It's perfectly normal for me to be having trouble sleeping, Jax, especially these last couple of months."

"Anything I can do, darlin'?" He asked earnestly and Jolene felt her heart about to explode in her chest. How she made it through one pregnancy without her old man doting over her, catering to her every whim and need, she'll never know.

The truth was Jax had always been an attentive and caring lover. And even though it almost drove her to drink during her first and second trimesters, it only made sense that he would be an attentive and caring father-to-be as well. Being the stubborn and independent cow that she was, however, Jolene would probably never admit out loud that she actually enjoyed having her old man take care of her. Especially since Gemma was quick to point out that the first few months of her pregnancy would have gone a lot smoother if Jolene had just given in to Jax's need to take care of her. After all, a hardcore, outlaw biker he may be, but in the world they lived in, a real man took care of what was his. And Jolene belonged to Jax heart, body, and soul.

"You already do enough for me, baby." Jolene smiled as Jax cradled her face in his hands and kissed her softly.

In spite of the fact that she felt as big as a house, after a few minor hitches here and there, this pregnancy was progressing far better than her first. Even Dr. Namid, who was most cautious in his evaluation concerning the baby's development, seemed to be very happy with the results to date.

And she had her SAMCRO family to thank for that. After all of the highs and lows she has shared with Jax over the years, Jolene couldn't remember a happier time in her life. Not only had this baby been conceived by two people madly in love with each other, but for the past 7½ months, it had been nurtured and doted on by the people Jolene loved most in the world. Whether it was a boy or a girl, this baby had no clue how lucky he or she was to have an extended, albeit dysfunctional family that already loved it unconditionally. If for that reason alone, Jolene could come to grips with her family's near-strangling love.

Jolene broke away from their kiss as Dr. Namid chuckled after clearing his throat rather loudly upon entering the exam room. "It's good to see the both of you today. How are you feeling, Jolene?" He inquired.

"Well, in spite of the fact that I'm probably carrying about half my weight around my mid-section and I can't see my feet any more unless I'm laying down and Jax is holding them up in the air—" She stopped abruptly, her cheeks suddenly turning pink, prompting both Jax and the doctor to laugh.

"Darlin', I think that's more information than the Doc was bargaining for." Her old man teased.

Jolene cleared her throat. "_Anywho_, aside from being so grotesquely fat that I can't see my own feet, which in hindsight isn't such a bad thing because they're swollen and I can't wear any of my favorite boots anymore, I'm doing just fine." She grinned.

"My old lady is a woman who adheres to the philosophy of 'fashion over comfort', Dr. Namid." Jax smiled as his old lady gave him the stink eye. "If she could bend far enough to wedge her feet into her favorite Fendi boots, she would."

Jolene blinked. "How could you possibly know that?"

"You take care of those boots the way I take care of my leather. You just had them resoled, too. Babe, sometimes I think you love those boots more than me." Jax fake-pouted at his wife.

"I commiserate with you Mr. Teller." Dr. Namid said as he washed his hands at the sink near the door. "My own wife exhibits the same emotional attachment to her Jimmy Choos."

Jolene giggled. "I'm quite impressed that 'Jimmy Choo' would even be a part of your vocabulary, Doc." She teased.

Dr. Namid grinned as he sat on a stool to examine Jolene's feet. "My beautiful wife has trained me well and it's only taken her 21 years to get me just the way she wants me." Quickly changing the subject, the doctor noted, "Jolene, your ankles are swollen as well. How long has this been going on?"

At this Jax jumped in. "Since late last week. It was just her feet at first, but over the last couple of days the swelling seems to have travelled to her ankles and her lower legs."

The doctor re-examined the affected areas by gently pressing on them. "Have you been on your feet more than usual?" He asked sternly.

"No, doctor. I've been following your instructions. I conduct my classes while sitting and, more often than not, my butt's in a chair at home 95% of the time. My family won't tolerate anything less."

"That's good to hear. You might want to try elevating your legs when sitting to relieve the swelling and maybe try some roomier shoes with a smaller heel." The doctor advised. "I do have a bit of good news. Your measurements are on target for a woman your size and you are at the ideal weight for this stage of your pregnancy. Both your sonogram and the fetal heart monitor show that the baby is doing quite well. In fact, this time around, it wasn't so shy and we now know the sex."

Jolene's smile lit up her face as she eyed her old man. "Whadja think?"

Jax wasn't so sure. He was counting on a boy, not feeling ready to handle another pistol like Jolene. They had both been disappointed when the five-month sonogram had not revealed the sex of the baby, but with Jolene in the homestretch, Jax didn't feel the need to know right now anymore.

"I don't know, babe. I kinda like not knowing, anticipation and all that happy shit."

Jolene rolled her eyes. "Still afraid it's a girl, huh?" She teased.

"Uh, yeah," Jax rolled his eyes right back at her. "And I'm man enough to admit it, too."

"Well, Doc, it looks like we'll pass on knowing for now." Jolene replied. "As long as Peanut's doing well, that's all that really matters."

"Absolutely, Jolene. You can rest easy knowing that all tests indicate that the baby is developing normally. As a matter of fact, at this point, it looks like your little 'peanut' is well on its way to being a 6½, 7 pounder. Even though your son was born prematurely, I don't foresee any problems preventing you from carrying this pregnancy to term and you're right on schedule for a C-section by mid-February."

Jax, an expert at reading people, liked what he was hearing, but was also wary of what he wasn't. "Doc, I'm glad the baby's doing well, but why do I feel a big 'but' coming regarding my old lady?" He asked.

"Probably because there is one." The doctor replied, quickly holding up his hand as both of the Tellers suddenly fixed wide eyes on him. "There's no need to get excited, but the swelling in Jolene's legs could be water retention or it could be sign she's having trouble with her circulation. All of her blood work has come back fine and the medication is still working—"

"But?" Jolene asked cautiously, afraid that history was about to repeat itself. A few weeks before she had gone into premature labor with Abel, swelling in her limbs had been issue, along with piercing headaches.

"Taking past history into consideration, I want to make sure that everything continues smoothly for you, Jolene. I'm sure that's what you and your husband want as well." Dr. Namid started.

"Of course we do, Doc. Just tell us what to do and we'll do it." Jax's voice brooked no argument.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that." The doctor gave them both a wide, encouraging smile. "I can always consult my obstetrics team, if you want a second opinion, but I am recommending that Jolene go on complete bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy."

* * *

Sitting in a leather chair, Donna Winston contemplated her BFF as she sat comfortably ensconced on the large leather sofa in Jolene's living room. Wearing a black maternity graphic tee that said "Foxy Mama" with a tattoo-like print of pregnant pin-up girl in a bikini and a pair of super-tiny fleece shorts, the soon-to-be new mother's face was glowing. Her ever-expressive eyes, however, were telling a different story and right now they were saying that Jolene was in a little bit of a funk. Although having resolved herself to her current situation, she wasn't exactly jumping over the moon about spending the past three weeks in lock down.

With several large pillows propping her up, a couple of comforters and the coffee table littered with all types of electronic devices, books, snacks and the like, the VP's old lady would have thought that the Acting Queen of Charming would be in a slightly better mood.

_Who am I kidding? I was miserable too._

Donna, who had been on complete bed rest the last two weeks before the twins were born, knew exactly what Jolene was going through. With her nesting instinct having kicked in a few weeks ago, if Donna knew her Type-A friend, Jolene's head was probably about to explode with all the to-do lists she had floating around in there. It was up to Donna to distract her. Having taken the day off from work for just that purpose, Donna was on a mission to cheer up her girlfriend. Getting up from her seat, Donna plopped herself on the couch across from Jolene and kicked off her shoes.

"Comfy, are we?" Donna remarked as she covered herself with the other end of Jolene's comforter.

Jolene gave her friend a dead-eye stare. "Please tell me you're not gonna start with that annoying 'We' business, as if you can empathize with my feelings."

"Hell yeah! Have you forgotten the two melon heads I carried around for 38 weeks? Girl, you need to suck it up."

"What I need to do is put my foot up the next person's ass who tells me to suck it up." Jolene challenged.

Walking into the living room with Jolene's lunch on a tray, Neeta cleared a space on the coffee table and put it down. Turning to Donna, she snarked, "Is she complaining again? You wouldn't know that the woman was being treated like the Queen of Sheba, would ya?" Wagging her finger at the younger woman, Neeta continued. "And Donna's right on the money. You really need to suck it up and I'd like to see you try putting anything up _my ass_."

As Donna snorted with laughter, Jolene folded her arms under her engorged breasts as she eyed the older woman. "I really don't need this shit." She said sulkily.

"No, but as long as you keep whining, I've got plenty to say at your expense." Neeta made herself comfortable in the chair Donna had vacated. "And if you don't keep your whining down to a dull roar, your father is going to come out here and jump on your pregnant behind, too. He's a whole lot handier now that he's finally graduated to that fancy walker."

Jolene smiled suddenly as she considered her father. After over five months spent living in several casts, Clay Morrow had finally been liberated and was in an aggressive stage of rehab. Only using his motorized wheelchair when he was out and about in Charming, Clay was slowly learning how to walk again with his newly healed limbs and with the aid of a walker. With the progress he was making, doctors expected him to make a full recovery in another six months.

"I love my Dad, but please don't bring him in here." Jolene pleaded.

"Then maybe you need to stop complaining and eat what I put in front of you. I don't wanna have to tell Abel that you didn't finish your lunch again. You know how much he worries about his momma."

_Gemma and Neeta have turned using Abel to keep Jolene in line into an art form_, Donna sniggered to herself as Jolene quickly picked up half of the sandwich on her plate and began to chow down. The last thing Jolene wanted was to get her baby boy all worked up about her. All Abel had to do was waggle his little finger at her in imitation of his Papa and Jolene would fold like a house of cards.

Neeta continued with her chastising. "Why are you so damn crabby anyway?"

At that, Donna chortled. "Haven't you heard? Being on complete bed rest isn't as fun as it sounds. Jolene's not the only one on lock down, but so is her muffin."

"Well _damn_, girl! That certainly explains a whole helluva lot. If I was married to that tall blond brickhouse and couldn't get me some, I'd be pissed off too." Neeta smiled knowingly.

"Thank you D, for announcing my sex life—or lack thereof—to the world."

"Girl, I'm not the world. It's just me. And somebody needs to tell me shit so I know how to deal with your cranky ass." Neeta replied, reaching over to grab a handful of mixed nuts sitting in a bowl on the coffee table and popped a few into her mouth.

"Hey, I _still_ get me some. Just because my old man can't lay no pipe, doesn't mean that I've gone cold turkey." Jolene wriggled her eyebrows wickedly.

Donna rolled her eyes. "Oh, look who's talkin' shit now."

"Hey, all I'm saying is that tongue of his is good for _so much more_ than just talking me into dropping my panties and we'll leave it at that." Jolene smirked.

"Jo, who you talking to? You're preaching to the choir. I have first-hand _visual_ knowledge that Jax knows how to work that shit." Donna replied and she picked up a fashion magazine from the coffee table to fan herself energetically. "Damn, it just got all sorts of hot around here!"

"The hell you say!" Neeta said disbelievingly, her eyes wide. "You can't stop there! Dish it!"

"Uh, yeah, like when did that happen?" Jolene queried with a raised eyebrow.

"Wow, pregnancy brain is really hitting you hard if you've already forgotten how I crashed your little party the day I found out I was pregnant." Donna explained.

Finally remembering, Jolene hooted with laughter. "Girl, that was eight years ago and damn, I almost did forget! Oh my God, D! That was so totally twisted, too! I thought Jax was gonna kill ya that day."

"Well, don't keep it to yourself, Donna. Come on and share!" Neeta invited with a cackle.

The three women continued to laugh and reminisce as they talked about all of the good times they had experienced together over the years and it went a long way to taking Jolene's mind off of her situation.

While Jolene had resigned herself to the idea of not finishing the term with her students and being bedridden until her baby was born, with so much time on her hands all she could really do was think, which allowed her mind to go wandering down dangerous paths.

Worrying about the state of her body as well as the state of her marriage, Jolene's insecurities started revisiting her again after Dr. Namid had dropped the anvil about putting a hold on their sex life. While she had every confidence that her old man would never stray on her, Jolene's insecurities regarding her body and her current inability to properly take care of her husband's sexual needs were beginning to weigh her down.

If Donna only knew what was really at the root of Jolene's funk, she could put her mind at ease. According to Ope, all Jax did was brag to his brothers about how beautiful Jolene looked knocked up with his kid. Every time Donna saw him, Jax had his pre-pay in hand, taking snap shots of his old lady without her noticing. Catching him one day, Jolene had threatened to delete every single fat picture she could find if she ever got her hands on his phone.

But Jax wasn't having it. Those pictures meant far more to him than he could ever say. The only picture that he had of Jolene while pregnant was the one in the ATF's file that David Hale had "liberated" from June Stahl. The sight of his old lady so obviously ill and struggling while carrying several bags of groceries had broken his heart.

The difference between now and then was like day and night. Jolene was healthy and looking all pink-cheeked and happy, her beautiful midnight curls even more lustrous and thicker than ever and her skin had a permanent glow to it. Jax, however, was extremely happy for another pregnancy by-product that catered to the primal beast in him. As her perfectly round belly grew, so did her perfectly round and beautiful tits. Always an impressive asset, her rack had grown at least another cup-size, making Jax not only incredibly hot for his wife, but proud that he was married to the hottest pregnant old lady on the planet.

Suddenly feeling the baby give several kicks, Jolene put a hand over her belly.

"Oh, oh. The Mad Peanut strikes again, huh?" Neeta smiled.

Soon after Jax had seen her tummy move like aliens had taken over her body, Abel had re-christened his unborn sibling as the Mad Peanut after witnessing with wide eyes a similar flurry of activity. Jolene's belly had stretched in ways it never had with Abel as she was treated to a succession of kicks from its occupant.

Smiling, Jolene rubbed her belly. "Yeah, the Mad Pea has been quite active lately, which is a good thing. As long as he or she keeps moving, I'll know that everything will be okay." Jolene was about to continue when her pre-pay went off. Picking it up, she groaned as she saw the text message. "Oh boy."

"Let me guess. Gemma's on her way back?" Donna asked.

"Uh huh. From the printers in Stockton. She'll be back in thirty minutes and wants us to be ready for her arrival." Jolene used her index finger and thumb to rub the bridge of her nose.

"Aw shit, you know what that means. She's gonna have us all busy stuffing envelopes for the SAMCRO baby shower to end all baby showers." Donna warned.

"Girl, I almost feel sorry for ya." Neeta shook her head sympathetically.

Jolene covered her face and groaned. "Tell me about it. It's going to be worse than the wedding."

"Is that even possible?" Donna paled slightly.

"Hell's yeah, it is! This is Gemma Teller-Morrow we're talking about here. And I can't even have any wine or tequila to knock my ass unconscious." Jolene complained half-heartedly.

With the baby shower scheduled for the next month, about two weeks before Jolene's scheduled delivery date, Gemma was now in full party-planning mode. With Jolene on permanent grounding, party central was the Teller home and Gemma wanted Jolene involved in every step of the way. And the fact was that Jolene was truly excited because she didn't get to have a shower for Abel.

With Jolene suddenly smiling to herself like a mental patient, Donna and Neeta exchanged perplexed looks. If there ever was a reason for SAMCRO to throw a party, as far as Jolene was concerned, celebrating the impending birth of the life she and Jax had created was certainly it.

After wading through acres of shit—a turncoat patch, separation, incarceration, junkie ex-wives, porn stars, vindictive whack-job ATF agents, accidents, injuries, and whatnot—in just a few short weeks, the Teller family would be complete.

* * *

Jolene smiled as she ran her hand through Jax's rapidly growing hair. Lying on their California king-sized bed, Jax had his ear gently pressed against her bare belly as he softly spoke to the baby.

"Let me know if the baby talks back." She teased, close to tears and trying really hard not to show it.

"Nah, he's not much of a talker," Jax sat up and rubbed the right side of his chin as he looked down at Jolene. "Has a helluva left hook, though."

Jolene giggled, but suddenly stopped, giving her husband the stink eye as he removed his cut and made himself comfortable. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like, darlin'?" He flashed her that famous panty-dropping grin of his.

"Jax, stop looking at me like that and get your ass over to the Clubhouse already, will ya? I'm fine. No, I'm better than fine, I'm perfectly fine. Now go." Jolene ordered mulishly as she sat up in bed. When it looked like he had no intention of budging, she continued. "Baby, tonight's a big deal. It's Dad's first Church at the actual table. After months confined to this house, he finally gets to go back to the Clubhouse and be with his brothers. It's a biggie and you know it. There's no reason to sit around watching me. I feel like you're waiting for me to lay an egg."

"Can you really blame me?" Jax said quietly as he reached out and wrapped several tendrils of his old lady's silky hair around his fingers.

"No, I guess not." Jolene softened a little, knowing just how important it was for him to be around, not only in case she needed him, but simply to share in the experience. He had even broken down and watched the full video of a C-section birth without passing out either. But she knew that her old man needed to let off a little steam with his brothers and tonight was as good a time as any.

Jolene had roped her father into seeing that Jax relaxed and had a good time. The crusty old biker would do anything for his daughter and had no problem being tasked with getting his son-in-law to loosen up.

"_A few hands of poker, baby girl and a bottle or two of Jack will set him straight." Clay had grinned at her earlier that day when she hit him up with her plan._

"_Geez, Dad, I want him still capable of walking, you know." Jolene ordered. "And keep him away from the pussy buffet, please."_

"_Hey, I've been through a war and over 40 years as a Son. I ain't about to be taken out by no pregnant broad." He had joked._

Sitting up, Jax kissed her. Unable to resist, Jolene balled her hand in his hair as his mouth wrecked havoc on hers. Smiling at Jolene with the devil in his eyes, Jax moved on to nuzzling her neck, making her moan.

"Jackson! Why are you starting shit you know we can't finish, baby?" Jolene was pretty close to whining because she didn't want him to stop.

"Mmmm," Jax continued working her neck, one hand finding its way under her shirt to gently squeeze her breast. "You smell good, baby."

"That's cuz I farted," Jolene kidded as she tried pushing him away. "Now stop."

Jax fell back on the bed and rubbed both hands over his face. Looking up into Jolene's wide and worried eyes, he grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Sorry, darlin'. I got carried away." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I just really, _really_ miss being with you."

Jolene swallowed hard. "I know," She nodded her head. "I miss it, too."

Narrowing his eyes, Jax suddenly sat up again and looked her straight in the eyes. "Stop it, Jo."

"Stop what?" She asked innocently, her eyes falling to her hands resting on her belly.

"I can almost hear your thoughts." Jax smiled. Using his index finger to raise her chin, he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's not just the sex I'm craving, babe. It's my old lady I want."

Jolene felt the corners of her mouth curl up in spite of herself. "Really? This fat blob of baby? Is that what you want?"

"Every night, all night, darlin'." Jax wriggled his eyebrows at her lecherously.

Jolene laughed. "You'd better go before I say to hell with Dr. Namid and his cock-blocking."

"All right," Jax pressed a long hard kiss on his old lady's upturned lips before jumping out of bed. "But I'll be back in a few hours. Be good." He said, slipping into his cut.

"I always am." Watching him walk out the door, Jolene winced slightly as she tried to get comfortable.

* * *

Standing at the head of the table, Jax grinned at the noise his brothers were making as they escorted the former SAMCRO President into the Chapel. The shit-eating grin on his father-in-law's face was evidence of just how happy he was to be home. It was good to see him upright and wearing his cut proudly.

Leaving his walker in the trunk of Gemma's SUV, Clay maneuvered his way into the room with the aid of a bad-ass custom-made black-lacquered cane with the head of the Reaper in sterling silver, a gift from his baby girl. There was no way he was going to be seen walking into the Club with that POS walker like some old geezer.

"Hey, it's Crippled Fuck Walkin'!" Piney joked as he threw back a shot and laughed. "Come and take a seat down here, brother. This is the old school section, reserved for the sick and infirm." He said with a smirk on his face.

"Shut up before I put my size fourteens straight up your ass." Clay shot back.

With much back-slapping and snarky comments flying all over the room, the group of brothers finally managed to get settled around the Redwood table.

Sitting at the opposite end from Jax, Clay grinned. It was so good to be in the Clubhouse again. As he eyed his son-in-law, Clay realized that he had been right all along. Jax looked pretty good, confident even, in his position at the head of the table, much like his father JT had.

After all of the chatter had died down and Jax had made a short speech welcoming Clay back, the AP called the meeting to order. It would be some time before Clay was officially back at the table with the power to cast a vote on Club business, but it was still good to be there all the same.

As Jax took the lead, with Bobby reading off minutes from the last meeting and going over the Club's current finances, Clay was impressed with how Jax handled himself and the Club. Clay had never doubted his decision to put Jax in charge while he recuperated, but seeing him in action at the head of the table, instead of the Tellers' living room, really brought home to Clay just how much Jax had grown as a patch and as a leader over the years. He was obviously born to lead and, judging from the way he handled his shit, handing out commendations, refereeing when the Brothers Grim got out of hand, delegating tasks and putting forth scenarios regarding the business, Clay knew that he would always be a more than competent leader for the Club.

* * *

At almost eight months, Jolene found that whatever ease of mobility she had was long gone. Twisting around a bit, Jolene groaned as she felt another dull, annoying ache in her lower back.

"Probably just another Braxton-Hicks contraction." Jolene said out loud, trying to convince herself.

Several weeks ago, Jolene had felt the pangs of what she had feared was pre-term labor. It had happened a few hours before dawn and Jolene remembered being alarmed enough that she had been forced to wake Jax up. She couldn't help but smile as she recalled her old man's panicked struggle to get out of the bed as he got caught in the sheets and fell in a heap on the floor.

Barely managing to calm him down, they both waited anxiously while Jax held a stop watch in one hand with the other on her belly as they waited for the next contraction.

It never came.

Having convinced her husband that they should go back to sleep, Jax had taken her to St. Thomas later that morning. Dr. Namid provided the calming influence that they had both needed as he reassured them that it had been false labor and that Abel's "Mad Peanut" wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

But as she lay on her bed waiting for Neeta to come upstairs for an impromptu movie night, Jolene started to get anxious as the pain in her lower back continued to intensify persistently with every breath she took.

* * *

Neeta walked out of the kitchen, followed by Filthy Phil holding a large tray heavy with movie-watching snacks, and headed towards the stairs when the front door opened and Gemma blew in.

"It's about damn time! I know it doesn't take that long to drop my baby boy off at Donna's."

"So, I took the opportunity to discuss the shower with her for a few minutes. Don't get your granny panties in a knot now." Gemma snarked. Looking at the young Prospect who had been ordered by his President to stay behind in case his old lady needed anything, Gemma grinned. "Besides, you had Tiny Tim for company, and it's not like I was gonna miss anything exciting except a Ryan Gosling movie marathon."

Suddenly, the three individuals were rocked to their core as they heard a terrified scream come from upstairs.

"NEETA!"

"HOLY SHIT!" The woman gasped as Phil nearly dropped the tray. "Jolene!"

Shoving each other in their haste, Gemma and Neeta, with Phil bringing up the rear, ran up the stairs to the master bedroom. Gemma was literally shaking in her stiletto boots as Neeta flew blindly into the room.

Jolene was lying on her side in her bed, the heavy wine-colored covers thrown back. Wearing nothing but a long-sleeve night gown, Gemma could see that both Jolene and the bed were soaked as she clutched her belly.

"Oh my God." Gemma practically whispered to herself as her hand flew to her mouth.

Neeta hurried around the bed to get to Jolene. "Shit! Shit! Shit, Girl! What in the hell happened?"

"I—I don't know," Jolene trembled like she had palsy as the older woman put her arm around her. "My back was aching and suddenly I felt two or three sharp pains and, the next thing I knew, my water broke." She explained in a shaky voice. "Neeta, please, this can't be happening, not again. It's too early." Jolene clutched Neeta's shoulder as the woman tried her best to comfort her.

"Okay, do not panic." Filthy Phil ordered confidently as he leapt into action. "Gemma, grab the hospital go-bag, it should be in that closet over there. Neeta, change Mrs. T into something dry and get some clean blankets while I get her a bottle of water." Grabbing Jolene's cell phone off the nightstand, Phil hit the speed dial as he had been trained by his President as he headed for the master bedroom doors. "I'm calling 9-1-1, Dr. Namid and the midwife. Then I'll call the Pres." Phil's voice cracked at the last statement. "Let's move it people!"

* * *

The barely-legal-to-drink Prospect stood stupefied at the bar as he listened to the outraged voice barking orders at him over phone.

"_I don't care that the fuckin' door's closed, asshole! Get your thumb outta your ass and walk on over there because sure as shit your patch is hangin' on whether or not you do what the fuck I say! NOW!"_

Hearing the sounds of what had to be a siren in the background, the new Prospect swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Alright, alright. I'll do it." He managed to reply a second before Filthy Phil hung up.

Placing the phone down on its cradle, the Prospect hurried over to the Chapel doors, but hesitated to knock. While some of the hang-arounds were alternating between shooting pool and watching a couple of sweetbutts working the pole, a couple of the more savvy ones watched avidly as the Prospect gingerly tapped on the door.

Hearing no response, he took a deep breath and banged his fist on the door.

Suddenly the Prospect heard a very faint and muffled shout. "Get the fuck away from the door!"

_Either way, I'm fucked_.

Banging again, the Prospect was startled when one of the doors flew open and he was looking straight into the crazy blue-eyed stare of the mother charter's SAA.

_Oh, shit. It had to be the crazy bastard._

"Uh . . . uh . . ." He stammered.

"Uh . . . what, dipshit?" Tig demanded.

"Uh, I have to speak to the Pres."

"Shithead, we're at the table!" Tig yelled.

"I know, I know, but—" The Prospect got no further when Tig suddenly grabbed him by the front of his prospect cut and flung him into the room. The Prospect slumped onto the floor, and seriously considered staying there, after this head slammed into the back of the chair currently occupied by the patch who spoke like he had a mouth full of marbles.

"What. Do. You. Want?" The low growl came from the head of the table.

Rapidly blinking his eyes to clear his vision, the Prospect jumped to his feet, and finally focused on the man who was Acting President.

"Uh, sir, you just got a call." He said and fell silent as every patch shifted to glare simultaneously at him.

"You risked your life coming in here to tell him _that_?" Bobby snarked. "Did your momma drop you on your head cuz I don't think you're too bright."

"I thought we had already scraped the bottom of the barrel with this one." Clay snarked as he pointed at Juice. "AP, please tell me that the quality of the pricks prospecting hasn't gone down the shitter since I've stepped down."

The Prospect tried yet again, just as Jax was lighting another cigarette. "Filthy Phil just called. He says he's on the way to the hospital."

"Why? Are they gonna pump the fat bastard's stomach?" Happy said amidst shouts of laughter.

But Jax was suddenly frozen in his chair. "What the fuck did you say?" He growled.

"Uh, Phil said . . . he said your old lady's water broke and that they're on the way—"

The Prospect never got to finish as with a roar of fury Jax leapt to his feet and nearly trampled him. Slamming the Prospect into the wall, Jax took off at a dead run for the Clubhouse door, his VP and brothers—including his gimpy father-in-law—following behind him in hot pursuit.

* * *

Jolene had been at the hospital all of ten minutes before Jax tore out of the elevator and into St. Thomas' maternity ward. Stopping abruptly in the middle of the floor by the Nurses Station, Jax looked around wildly, causing several staff members and a couple of patients to step back and give the menacing looking biker room.

"Jax!" Spinning around, Jax saw Neeta beckoning him down the hall.

"Is she in there?" Jax asked, pointing to the door directly across the small group standing in the hallway consisting of his mother, Neeta, and Filthy Phil.

"Yeah, baby." Gemma approached her son, smoothing his somewhat wild hair back. "The midwife's with her now."

Jax let out the breath he felt like he had been holding since he left the Clubhouse. The fact that Jolene was in a birthing room and not on her way to the OR was a relief. Gemma could almost read his thoughts by the look in his deep blue eyes as he clenched and unclenched his fists at his side.

"You can do this, baby." Gemma almost whispered. Jax nodded as his mother placed a kiss on his cheek.

Slowly opening the door to the birthing room, the first sound Jax could hear was the "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" of a fetal heart monitor. Stepping into the room, not knowing what to expect, his heart soften as he saw his beautiful old lady sitting up in bed. Her eyes instantly rounded and welled up with tears the moment she spotted him. Holding her arms out to him, Jax quickly crossed the room and embraced the one thing he loved most in the world, bar none.

"They can't stop the contractions because my water broke, Jax." She said, her voice filled with the unshed tears she was desperately trying to control. "I'm so sorry I couldn't bring our baby to term."

Jax pulled away slightly as he shook his head. "Don't, baby." He ran his hands through her hair before cradling her face. "It's not your fault." He assured her.

"Nope, it's not," Said the woman in purple scrubs from clear across the room as she wrote numbers into Jolene's chart.

Realizing for the first time that they weren't alone, Jax turned to face the woman he recognized as Jolene's midwife Peggy.

"Sweetheart, babies come when they're good and ready. They decide, not you." Peggy continued as she approached Jolene's bed.

"But I'm five weeks premature. It's not supposed to happen yet."

Peggy nodded. "True, but babies are considered full-term at 37 weeks. You're less than two weeks shy of that, Jolene. Every test imaginable has been done and all the results indicate that you are having a healthy baby." The midwife assured her kindly. "We will do everything in our power to make sure that all goes well, but you need to stop stressing. It's not good for you or the baby."

"Is Dr. Namid here?" Jax asked.

"Not yet. I spoke to him as soon as I got word that Jolene was on her way." Peggy started. "It seems that Dr. Namid was on his way to Napa for the weekend, but he made a quick turnaround and is on his way back."

"So she's in labor now?" Jax asked, his hand gripping Jolene's ice cold one.

"She's in what's called Active Labor, meaning Jolene's six centimeters dilated with 75% effacement." Peggy explained. "How far apart were your contractions and when was your last one?"

Looking at her watch, Jolene replied. "They were about fifteen minutes apart and the last one was about ten minutes ago." And as if on cue, Jolene gasped and gripped her belly as another set of contractions hit her.

Jax watched her with wide eyes as Jolene tried to fight through the pain by breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.

Peggy quickly pulled out a stop watch. "Let me know when it passes."

The seconds seemed to drag on for minutes and Jax was unsure if Jolene had heard Peggy asking to let her know when it was over. Suddenly, Jolene fell back onto the bed and closed her eyes. "Okay, it stopped, but Jesus! That was a long one."

"A minute and ten seconds." Peggy said, pulling up a stool at the foot of Jolene's bed. "That _was_ a long one. Let's time these suckers."

With Jax rooted to the floor by Jolene's side, no one spoke as they waited in anticipation. They didn't have to wait long.

"Aaaaah, SHIT!" Jolene grabbed at her belly again about five minutes later. This time the contractions lasted just over a minute and a half.

Pushing the thin hospital blanket up Jolene's bare legs, Peggy then snapped on a pair of latex gloves. First putting one hand between Jolene's legs, causing her to react like she had been goosed, and then her head to take a closer look, the midwife pulled back and smiled.

"Dad, it looks like I'm gonna need ya to scrub in." Peggy pulled off her gloves. Quickly walking to a small cabinet over the sink, she pulled out a pair of blue scrubs for a thunderstruck Jax. "Come on, hop to it. First, take all that off," She said indicating his cut and long-sleeved shirt. "And hop into these. Then use that brush and antibacterial soap to scrub all the way up to the elbows, got it?"

"The baby's coming?" Jolene asked from the bed.

"You're fully dilated and 100% effaced, sweetheart. Let me know as soon as the next contractions hit ya." Peggy said picking up the phone.

"Shouldn't a doctor be in here?" Jax questioned with a furrowed brow.

"That's what I'm doing now, Dad. What should be happening is you standing there in your scrubs, all washed up and ready to go. Chop, chop, Dad. Come on." Peggy demanded with a slight smile as Jax stared at her as if she had just kicked a puppy.

In spite of their current situation, Jolene couldn't help but chuckle at the look on her old man's face. The only other woman on earth allowed to order Jax around like that was Gemma, and even then only up to a certain point. Somehow, however, even though she barely came up to his arm pits, Jax fell into step with Peggy's commands and quickly did what he was told.

Peggy was just hanging up the phone when Jolene bolted upright and grabbed onto the bed rails on either side for dear life.

"AAAAAAH, FUUUCCCKKK!" Jolene screamed as both Jax and Peggy raced over to the bed.

"Hold on, Jolene. Dr. Preston's on-call tonight, but she's in the middle of another delivery." Peggy advised as the door opened and a nurse in scrubs stepped in.

"Peggy!" Jolene called out desperately. "I can't hold on! I think I'm gonna have to push with the next one!"

The young blonde nurse had just finished checking vitals on the fetal heart monitor as well as the blood pressure machine and heart monitor attached to Jolene. "All vitals are good, Peg. Contractions are now like three minutes apart."

Running to the sink, Peggy quickly scrubbed in and pulled on another pair of latex gloves. "I'm game if you are, sweetie." She said as she took a seat again at the foot of the bed.

"I'm game, I'm game. I swear." Jolene nodded frantically. Looking up at an obviously terrified Jax, Jolene tried to smile reassuringly as he mopped her sweaty brow with a damp washcloth the nurse handed to him. "It feels different then the first time, baby. I can tell everything's gonna be alright. Just stick with me, okay?"

"Always, darlin'." Jax smiled, amazed at how calm she was, before dropping a quick kiss on her lips.

"Okay, Jolene!" Peggy said in a cheerful, sing-song voice. "The baby's crowning. On the next contraction, I need you to bear down and give me one good push, okay? You, Daddy, when the time comes, hold her up off the bed so she can concentrate on pushing."

"Five, four, three, two, one." The nurse counted off and right on schedule the next contraction hit Jolene. Bearing down, through gritted teeth Jolene grunted as she pushed for what felt like an eternity but was actually only 45 seconds.

"Let her rest." Peggy said and Jax let her fall back gently onto the bed and wiped her brow again to keep the sweat out of her eyes. "Okay, Mommy. The head's out. One more big push and you're home free, okay. On three. One, two, three!"

Alternating between grunts and pants, Jolene pushed until she felt herself expand to accommodate the baby's shoulders, quickly followed by the rest. "Oh my God! Oh my God! It's out, Jax, it's out."

Jax couldn't control the tears that sprang from his eyes as Peggy quickly suctioned the baby's mouth and nose, causing it to squawk in disapproval before expanding its lungs and letting out a cry that was music to his ears.

Quickly tying off the umbilical cord, Peggy held up the baby and announced, "It's a girl!"

Falling back onto the bed, Jolene was alternating between laughing and crying as Jax stood mesmerized by the sight of his daughter.

"Come here, Dad. Come meet your little girl." Peggy coaxed. "You wanna do the honors?" She asked offering him a pair of scissors.

Jax ran one hand over his face, wiping away tears, as he snipped the cord with the other.

"Holy shit!" Was all he could bring himself to say as the nurse gently placed his newborn daughter in his powerful arms after wrapping her in a blanket. Jax chuckled as she instantly stopped her mewling and her bright blue eyes flew open.

Walking over to Jolene, his eyes brimming with tears, Jax looked at his old lady and smiled. "She's beautiful, babe." Placing a gentle kiss on his baby's head, he carefully passed her over to Jolene, who was weeping openly.

Opening the baby's blanket, Jolene quickly counted ten fingers and ten toes and checked to make sure no one had overlooked a penis. "Oh my God, look at all that hair." She marveled at the head full of silky black strands sticking out in every direction. "She's perfect."

Jax leaned towards Jolene and kissed her deeply.

"Like mother, like daughter." He smiled.

* * *

Smiling as he entered Jolene's private room, Jax leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Less than two hours after giving birth and probably exhausted, but too excited to sleep, it was amazing to him how beautiful his old lady looked. Jolene was sitting perched on her bed, her long and shiny curls a cascade over one shoulder as she held their newborn daughter to her breast.

"I hope she realizes that those puppies are a loaner." Jax teased.

Jolene looked up at him in mock shock. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means those tits are mine." Jax crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed and chuckled as he watched his daughter suckle heartily at her mother's breast. "She's really going to town, huh?"

"You have no idea how hard it was getting her to latch on." Jolene shook her head and looked up at Jax. "I've never done this before. I couldn't after Abel was born, so I'm a noob, but after much crying—mostly by me—she finally decided to cut me a break. Now I don't think she's planning on letting go any time soon."

Sitting in comfortable silence, Jax watched Jolene tenderly administer to their baby, taking her time burping her after she was done feeding and then rocking her gently until she fell asleep again.

"I don't think I've ever told you what a wonderful mom I think you are. You're such a natural, Jo." He tenderly ran his fingers through her loose curls. "I'm a lucky man. I scored myself a fuckin' amazing old lady."

"Aww, baby, come here." Jolene cooed as she pulled him towards her by his cut and kissed him hungrily, prompting Jax to respond in kind with raised eyebrows. Feeling his pre-pay vibrate in his pocket, Jax reluctantly pulled away.

"To be continued." He smiled, pulling out his phone and read the text message. Standing up, Jax kissed her forehead. "Hey, I got a surprise for you." Swaggering over to the door, he cracked it open and waved to someone outside.

Pushing through the small opening, Donna squeezed by holding an excited Abel in her arms, with Gemma and Clay behind them.

"Mommy!" Abel said loudly, but quickly lowered his voice. "We haf to be quiet, 'cause we not supposed to be here. Is that my baby sister?" He whispered, awestruck.

Jolene nodded her head as Donna approached the bed with her son. "Come. Sit with Mommy and take a look, baby." She whispered right back.

With tears of happiness sliding down her cheeks, Jolene held her son in the crook of one arm while she cradled the baby in the other.

"Oh, Jo, she's beautiful." Donna was practically clapping with giddy joy.

Abel's voice was awed as he looked at the baby in his mother's arm. "She's so pretty and so little, too. Can I touch her? Auntie Donna made sure I washed my hands."

"Absolutely, baby." Jolene nodded and watched as Abel reached out with a chubby finger to carefully stroke his sleeping sister's cheek.

"Mad Peanut is really soft." He marveled, looking up at his mother with wide, green eyes.

Stepping up to his family, Jax ruffled his son's hair. "Well, now that she's here, Abel, we decided on a better name for Peanut. I kinda liked part of her nickname, but we made a compromise." He winked at his old lady.

"Yep," Jolene smiled at her parents who looked awestruck as they clung to each other. "We decided to name her Maddox, like Grandma's name before she got married. Maddox Gemma Teller, or you can call her Maddy for short. What do you think?"

Abel cocked his head to the side. "I like it." He eyed both of his parents. "And she's not sick, like I was? She won't have to stay in the hospital?"

"No, baby. She's perfectly healthy." Jolene replied. "Maybe Grandma and Papa want to hold her. You think that's a good idea?"

Abel nodded as Gemma stepped forward. First wrapping an arm around Jolene, she gave her a hard hug, not sure whether she could speak. Taking her granddaughter and namesake from Jolene's arms, she softly jiggled and cooed at the tiny baby, as Clay bent over to kiss the top of his daughter's head.

"Oh, baby girl," Gemma whispered. "I think you spit this one out this time." She gently rubbed her check against Maddy's head before kissing her softly.

"Okay, enough. Hand over my grandbaby before you drop her." Clay ordered as Gemma looked as if she was overcome.

Taking Maddy into his arms, Clay was suddenly surprised when the baby opened its unseeing startling blue eyes as it waved a starfish hand in the air. Placing a thick index finger in her palm, Maddy's hand tightened its grip and gave her grandpa what he later recounted to anyone who would listen as a "killer handshake".

Looking with moist eyes at his new granddaughter, for the third time in his life, Clarence Morrow fell in love at first sight with a child all over again.

* * *

Sitting in a rocking chair in the Teller nursery, Clay slowly rocked his new granddaughter while his son-in-law watched.

While Jax had never seriously begrudged having his in-laws living with them during Clay's recovery, with the new baby now home, Jax was finding that he had to fight his father-in-law and everybody else in the house in order to spend time with his daughter.

Jax nearly laughed out loud as Clay interrupted his musings by gurgling a stream of baby gibberish at Maddy, who despite all attempts to put her to down for a nap, was wide awake as she chortled and drooled happily.

"Man, you better never let the Club hear you babbling like that." Jax snarked.

"Hey, I'm entitled to do this shit. I never got the chance with Abel." Clay sighed, the pain of losing all those years with his grandson and daughter still raw. "All my fault, too."

"Listen, Clay, that shit's far behind us now. Maddy's proof of that, so leave it in the rear view, okay?"

"You're right." Clay nodded solemnly. "But I did miss out on a lot, Jax. Not just with Abel, but with my own kid as well. You know, I don't have any pictures of Jolene at this age. She came to me an adult trapped in a six-year old's body."

"True, but I think you're holding Jo's living portrait in your arms right now." Jax smiled.

Clay laughed. "Yeah, except for those blue eyes, there's not much of you in this one, huh?"

As the rough as a cob outlaw biker continued to rock Maddy, he had an epiphany. He was now seeing the accident that could have taken his life last summer for what it really was: a wake up call. Now in his early 60's, Clay had been living the outlaw life for over 40 years. Never overly concerned about his health, all he wanted when the Grim Reaper finally came for him was that he'd die with his cut and his boots on.

As much as it surprised him, that wasn't true any more. He wanted to live as long as possible to enjoy the pleasure of watching his grandkids grow up. But in order for that to happen, he needed to actively do what he could to prolong his life. As much as he despised the health-nut regimen his old lady and baby girl had forced on him, he decided to just do it because as much as he wanted to stick around for his family, it was clearly obvious that his family wanted him to stick around as well.

Six weeks ago, Clay's had been more concerned with regaining his strength and mobility in order to reclaim his place at the head of the table. He had even consulted with a surgeon in hopes of relieving some of the effects of his rheumatoid arthritis. But now, holding his granddaughter in his arms, Clay realized that as much as he loved the Life, it was a young man's game. Those fortunate enough to survive as long as he had deserved to reward themselves in whatever way made them happy and made their life complete off the road.

Although Clay knew he would never give up riding or the Club, what time he had left he wanted to spend it with his family.

_I've had a really good run as the SAMCRO Prez, but I think its time to finally hand over the reins._

So it came completely out of left field and shocked the living shit out of Jax when his father-in-law looked him in the face and said, "Son, I'm done."

"Well, it's about damn time. Hand her over." Jax said, clapping and rubbing his hands together, but Clay interrupted him.

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean it's time. If you want it, the gavel's yours. Permanently."

Jax's jaw dropped. "Are you fuckin' serious?"

The older man nodded. "Yeah. It's been a long time coming, but it really hit me just now." Clay placed a loving kiss on the top of his granddaughter's head. "I love my brothers and I love the Club and I don't intend on leaving it behind." Clay pointed a finger at Jax. "I'm gonna get the surgery to repair some of the damage this fuckin' arthritis has done to my mitts. Once I'm riding again, you're gonna have to deal with my sorry ass sitting at the table, keeping an eye on things. But the rest of the time I wanna spend growing old gracefully with my old lady and spoiling my grandkids rotten."

Jax shook his head as he ran his hand over the hair on his chin. "And you're sure about this? You sure I'm the right one?"

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely, brother. The Club is safe in your and Ope's more-than-capable hands. I'll bet my life on it. You're a born leader, Jax. I know it and your brothers know it. I have no doubt that the vote will be unanimous." Clay assured him. "In spite of all the shit we've gone through together, good and bad, I'm proud of the man you've become. You're an honorable and loyal brother, you make my baby girl so freakin' happy it's a little sickening sometimes, and you're a great father. I may not say it often, Jax, but I love you, son. And I always will."

* * *

Sitting in the peaceful quietness of his man cave, Jax was still trying to compartmentalize the recent changes in his life. Even though it had only been a couple of days since the kick-ass party his old lady had organized to celebrate his induction as President, the responsibilities that those changes have wrought have already had a great impact on the man he had been and the man he was now.

First and foremost, the hardcore outlaw biker was still coming to terms with the fact that he had been completely and utterly floored by the love he had for his newborn daughter. In fact, the love and the need to protect his newly-expanded family overwhelmed him sometimes. Now more than ever, after achieving his lifelong dream to be the National President of the Sons of Anarchy, Jax realized how lucky he was to have Jolene back in his life. Not only had she given him back the balance that had been missing from his life that enabled him to focus on the MC, but she had given him another amazing reason to live and to die for.

"Can I come in, baby?" Jolene tapped on the open door.

Looking up, Jax arched a blond eyebrow as he drank in the beauty that was his old lady. Already fitting into her pre-pregnancy wardrobe, she wore skintight, hip-hugging jeans and a black tank top that was straining against her impressive rack.

"You're the only one that never has to ask, darlin'." Jax replied, mesmerized by her swaying hips as she made her way to the couch.

"I didn't want to interrupt your alone time with Maddy." Jolene said as she climbed onto the armrest and tucked her bare feet between Jax's thigh and the couch. "Next time, though, please give me a head's up when you take her out of the nursery. I almost just had a stroke."

"Sorry, babe." Jax nuzzled Maddy's sweet-smelling head. "I have to resort to kidnapping my own kid if I wanna spend any time with her. Won't happen again though. Can't have you stroking out on me."

Looking down at his chest, Jax smiled as he saw Maddy's little starfish hand as it flailed about wildly just underneath his "President" patch.

"Still can't believe it, huh?"

Jax looked up at his old lady. "Maddy or the patch?"

"Both."

It finally dawned on Jax that, for the first time in the eight weeks since Maddox was born, with Clay and Gemma out at a doctor's appointment, Abel hanging out at Donna's and Neeta off at the market, the Tellers were actually having a quiet moment to themselves in their own house.

Jax leaned back comfortably on the leather sofa with Maddy curled up on his chest. "Yeah, I'm still trying to wrap my head around both. Part of me is so ridiculously fuckin' happy right now that the other part is waiting for shit to go sideways." He confessed, so confident in the bond he had with his old lady that Jax was unafraid to share the fears that others would misinterpret as a weakness. "I've been wanting to wield the gavel for a long time, darlin'. Now that I have it, I'm not sure I know how to reconcile that with this." He said, indicating the baby.

Jolene ran her hand through his hair and down his cheek. "You've done an amazing job so far, baby. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll continue doing so on both fronts, especially with your brothers backing you up at the Clubhouse and me here at home."

"National Presidency puts the spotlight on me and those that I love, Jo. You understand the danger in this, right?" He asked, his brows knitted together.

Jolene chuckled. "Have you already forgotten that my father held the same position you're in now? And I've never felt safe anywhere except right here in Charming."

"But you've already been hurt under my watch, Jo. Now with you, Abel, and Maddy, I have so much more to lose." Jax replied.

Moving to kneel beside him on the couch, Jolene cradled his face in her hands. "Why are you doing this to yourself, huh?" She pecked at his lips until he was forced to smile. "You need to stop and enjoy this moment, Jax. I've known from the moment I met you that you were something special. Why are you still slow on the uptake?" She teased.

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't give up on my ass, then. If you had, I never would have known this kind of happiness."

"Giving up is not an option for us, Jax," Jolene replied. "Not anymore."

Jolene smiled as her plan to distract him by shoving her overflowing tits in his face seemed to be working. Jax was biting his lower lip as he suddenly leaned slightly away and let his eyes roam over her petite frame.

"Shit, babe, you're lookin' pretty fuckin' hot today."

"You're just seeing me through horny and hungry eyes." Jolene wrapped her arms around his neck and laid a soft kiss on her old man's lips, which he deepened to the consternation of the infant cradled between them.

As Maddy let out a loud squall, Jax grinned. "Aww, darlin'. She just threw her first cock-blocking move. Where's the damn video camera when you need one?" They both laughed.

Jolene sighed dramatically. "So, when are we gonna have another one?" She teased while gently stroking Maddy's back.

Jax fell back further on the couch. "Babe, you know I'm counting the days until I can make love to my old lady again, but we're done. That's it. No more."

"Aww, today could have been your lucky day, too." Jolene snapped her fingers as if to say "easy come, easy go". If he fell any further back on the couch, they would be in serious danger of tipping it over. "What? You're not the only one who's horny, you know."

The new President of the mother charter softly kissed the soft black curls peeking out from beneath Maddy's pink SAMCRO skull cap before getting up from the couch, pulling Jolene with him.

"Where are we going?" Jolene giggled as she almost stumbled off the couch in Jax's haste.

"Where do you think? I'm gonna go get me some pussy, that's where I'm going and you're coming along for the ride, darlin'. Fuck, you can't throw shit like that out there and expect me _not_ to act on it." Jax abruptly stopped at the door to his man cave and turned to face his old lady, with Maddy safely tucked into the crook of his arm. "I'm serious, though. The buck stops here. I am NOT knocking your ass up again, agreed?"

"You're the boss, baby." Jolene cooed at him prettily.

Jax shook his head, muttering to himself as he continued their trek up to their bedroom. "I am SO screwed."

Jolene smiled to herself_. I'll give him a year to two to recover. After all, I'm not the new Queen of Charming for nothing._

**The End**

* * *

**Author's Afterword: What started out as an experiment for me (or more like a dare)—is it possible to create an old lady worthy of Jax Teller who doesn't make me grind my teeth a la Tara Knowles?—has evolved into a whole universe. After several prequels, numerous one-shots, and a trilogy, even though not perfect, I am happy with the results. And I want to thank everyone who submitted a review letting me know that they were happy with the results as well.**

**Although it may have been too fluffy and light-hearted for some readers, I tried my best to present Kurt Sutter's SOA world (not the real MC world) with a mixture of romance, drama, humor, family, and brotherhood. I will be the first person to say that my stories were not meant in any way, shape, or form to represent actual MC life. I know sometimes the stories didn't work out the way some wanted or expected them to and, as a result, I've lost some readers along the way, but I had to follow my muse where it led me. **

**A lot of readers expressed sadness that this trilogy would be coming to an end, but I do have other stories planned for the Jaxene universe. On Thursday, August 9, I plan to roll out the first chapter of Charming Revisited. Although Jaxene will not be the main focus of the story, they are an important part of it as they are the new SAMCRO President and Queen of Charming (formerly, the "SAMCRO Princess"). **

**The fact is, Jax and Jolene have been forged and purified in the fire. As a couple, they are indestructible now. No croweaters or porn stars or any Club business can come between them again. To revisit those themes would diminish the bond they have that makes them a favorite. I'm not done with them, however, not by a long shot. I've been toying around with several one-shots on the SAMCRO children. I have some rough drafts complete, but I'm not sure when I will post them.**

**I will continue posting my new experiment, Four Women on Tuesday and Charming Revisited on Thursdays. Fair warning, though. The speed with which chapters go up may start to lag once Season 5 begins, but I will try my hardest not to let that happen. Thankfully, my beta WebStar has a whip and likes to crack it on me every so often. She's amazing, by the way, and I could not have done any of this without her. From plotting to outlining, to writing drafts, and editing, I've never seen anyone work so hard for no pay whatsoever. (That's not entirely true as she loves reading reviews, too, so please keep them coming!)**

**Thanks forever,**

**Harlee Quinn**

**P.S. The song, This Charming Life, was a favorite of mine from Season 3. It was the soundtrack for a montage of family scenes that really epitomized to me the core of Kurt Sutter's stories—the love for family and brotherhood. I wanted the story of Jax and Jolene to bring similar feelings to mind, that regardless of the problems they have had to face, they did have a "charming life" after all.**


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